Just Another Nightmare
by the-zombie-cat
Summary: After leaving his kingdom in shambles, the only thing left Drakkon can do is run away from the problem. Some things, however, you just can't run from.
1. The Decline of All Things

**Just to start, here, I'd like to apologize to anyone who's been waiting for this. I know I took my merry time with it and honestly I'm not even done with the rough draft yet. But, I figured it's well enough that I could at least start it up. Also, if you're just starting to read these, don't start with this one. I promise it won't make sense if you do. I'll be referencing a lot of things from my other stories and it takes to much time to explain it all over again. So anyway, I'm just gonna get right to it, then. Hope you enjoy :)**

The past twelve years had been trying. To say the very least. It was a constant effort to reclaim Northrend for the scourge, and they alone. Of course, after the initial fall of Dalaran, it was simple enough to scare away most of the remaining settlements, but it certainly didn't stop forces from trying to get in. They had taken to setting up a perimeter around the entire continent. Armed death knights, ghouls, abominations, and all manner of construct watching the shores twenty four seven. Even the dragonflight was involved, searching the skies for any sign of intruders. Aside from this consistent action, Drakkon also had to deal with the council's constant complaints. He had gone against them, acted on his own, and many were revolting in anger. His father had set up the system as an act of confidence. To make sure they were all on the same page and in agreement with each other to prevent fighting among the ranks. But, he was still the sole one making all the decisions and final call. It was just a much more diplomatic way to ease the minds of his followers.

Drakkon, however, behaved irrationally and recklessly in abandoning the courteous facade and making decisions without alerting the council. And, after years of the same routine and regular information, Drakkon's behavior was viewed as an act of betrayal. Though Arthas had originally tried to remedy the situation, he wasn't the one in charge, anymore. So, the near-war among the races of Northrend continued and all fingers of blame were pointed toward Drakkon. This only made things worse, as constant guard was required around the citadel, itself, as well. Drakkon had anticipated, or rather, hoped, that this guard would no longer be necessary once the alliance and horde forces were eradicated from the continent. However, he was finally viewed among his own as the ruthless dictator the position of the Lich King actually _was_. Luckily enough, he still had most of his knights and associated necromancers in Fleshwerks. That was enough to keep him secure from the revolting Vyrkil, dragonflight and manner of rebelled knights and constructs that roamed the continent. Though their numbers grew exponentially one the horde and alliance soldiers weren't around, anymore, to dwindle them on a regular basis.

Drakkon, himself had risen to the problems at hand, taking no issue in orders of kill-on-sight to those who had turned against him. He had become practiced in the ways of the cruel-mannered, heartless and tyrannical role he'd been placed in. With the continued lack of sleep, mental decline and altering effects of having become a death knight, himself, things were looking more and more grim as the years passed on. He spent more of his time locked away in his study, blocked away from everyone else and refusing to show himself unless completely necessary, that it began to get even more out of hand beyond the walls of the citadel. Northrend had become an overpopulated wasteland of old, broken settlements, corpses, harsh weather and chaotic action.

Wolfe did his best to lead the scourge army in Drakkon's decided path, but the other races of Northrend were always hostile and at the ready, doing everything they could to take down the death knights and any still following the orders of their corrupted king. Those knights who weren't being hunted were changing their allegiance, spying on the other knights and looking for flaws in the reinforced citadel. When these knights got discovered for the treachery, they were disposed of slowly and painfully, as per Drakkon's orders. It was becoming harder to tell who was actually on their side, however. Which is one of the many reasons Drakkon hardly left his study, anymore. He couldn't count how many times his own knights, within the very citadel, had attempted to rise and kill him, once he showed himself.

"It's getting worse out there." Wolfe spoke as he landed his drake on the balcony, looking between Nyteshayde and Arthas. "It's like the weather, itself, wants to join the fight, now. There are storms erupting all over Northrend, elementals rising to fight our knights. It's becoming a losing battle." He announced.

"What about the front lines around the continent?" Nyteshayde asked, watching her son in concern. "Are they holding?"

"Well enough." Wolfe nodded. "I think the only reason they aren't being taken out, at this point, is because the others don't want the forces of Azeroth back in.. They want to take care of Drak, themselves." At this, Nyteshayde gave a quick, worried glance to Arthas, who was watching out over the grounds below with a stern disapproving expression. Beneath the Citadel, knights, constructs and some of the dragonflight remaining on their side were locked in constant battle to keep the rebelling races out of the citadel.

"They've pulled down Naxxramas, recently. I saw the rubble of it as I passed over Dragonblight. There's no recovery for it, now." Wolfe continued, gaining back his mother's attention. "And the Vyrkil are trying to compromise Fleshwerks. I'm assuming it's in hopes of stopping the production of abominations."

"Is that everything?" Nyteshayde asked cautiously, though she could already read the answer in Wolfe's eyes.

"More of the dragonflight have turned on us. I noticed a lot fewer watching the skies, and a few tried to strike me down as I rode past." He said. "If they get enough on their side they could easily attack the citadel from above. Our gargoyles would be no match for them and, at that point, we wouldn't be able to keep them out." Nyte gave another look to Arthas, who finally moved his eyes from the battle below to glance between the two. Then, without a word, he turned to go inside. After a moment of initial wonder, Nyteshayde and Wolfe followed. He was on a set path to Drakkon's study, and a brief shock of worry ran through Nyteshayde as she easily sensed his anger at the situation. The feeling rose as Arthas reached the door. He didn't knock, or call though it, he kicked it open with great force. The large door cracked, and the sound of metal locks clattered loudly across the floor as he did so.

"What the hell are you doing!" Arthas demanded as he entered the room, followed quickly by a concerned Nyteshayde and a more curious, slightly amused Wolfe. Drakkon looked surprised, and it appeared the quick, forceful entry had made him jump from his seat, as it lay behind the desk on it's side. "Do something other than sit here and hide from the situation at hand!"

"What am I supposed to do about it? Everyone out there is trying to kill me!" Drakkon argued, all be it weakly. He knew his father well enough to tell he was angry, and that this was never a good thing.

"They're trying to kill you because you ruined everything!" Arthas shot. "Fix it, or they _will_ get into the citadel and you will not stand a chance against all of them!"

"There's nothing I can do!"

"I've _told_ you what to do!"

"I can't just talk to them and make everything alright again! If they got me outnumbered like that I _know_ they would take their opportunity in a heartbeat!" Drakkon said, looking more frightened than usual for his character. "Besides, we can handle this. I'm in charge, here, not them! _I_ call the shots and _they_ follow them! They have to learn that! It's not _my_ fault you let them get used to walking all over you!" At this, Arthas glared, and Drakkon took a step back.

"What I was doing was preventing _this_ from happening!" He snarled. "By letting them feel like they have a say in what happens, you assure they stay on your side and do as you say. All you've done is run that strategy into the ground and and break any form of allegiance you ever had!" His anger was growing, and Drakkon was looking more and more like he wanted to flee. "I _thought_ you could handle this! That you knew what you were doing and could cope with the responsibilities involved! You've proven me wrong every step of the way and I will not tolerate watching you destroy all I worked for anymore!"

"I didn't-" Drakkon tried.

"Listen to me!" Arthas roared, and Drakkon immediately stopped, looking a bit frozen. "You _will_ do as I say and get things back on track! You will _stop_ hiding away and becoming involved in things you shouldn't! You said you wanted this, so start acting like it! You are the Lich King, now. Not the same child who dappled in Fleshwerks that you usedto be! You need to accept the damn change and do your job in keeping Northrend under control! Are we clear?" At this, Drakkon gave a small nod. "I am going to help you get things together one last time, then you had better learn to do it on your own. I won't be around forever, Drakkon. Get your head on straight!" At this, he turned to leave the study, and Drakkon finally seemed to relax a bit.

"Wipe that ridiculous smirk off your face." Drakkon shot, glaring to Wolfe.

"I can't help it." Wolfe shrugged. "You needed a reality check. I'm just glad I got to witness it. You've been running the scourge into the ground for too long."

"As if _you_ would have done any better!" Drakkon hissed. "If you'd been places in charge, the place would be crawling with concubines and you would have allowed the forces of Azeroth to run rampant through Northrend."

"I wouldn't be hiding locked in my room like a weak, scared child." Wolfe snickered. It was cut short, however, when he quickly ducked out ot the way of a quick spell from his brother.

"Drakkon!" Nyteshayde scolded. "This isn't helping anything."

"Exactly." Wolfe agreed, smirk gone.

"Wolfe, honey.." Nyteshayde sighed, looking to her son and gesturing for the door. Wolfe looked reluctant, but the malice in Drakkon's eyes seemed to convince him. Drakkon moved back to the desk, setting the chair upright before sitting down. Nyteshayde, after watching Wolfe retreat from the room, moved forward, leaning on the desk and catching Drakkon's attention. "Things are getting far too bad out there for you to ignore it, anymore."

"I'm not ignoring anything." He muttered. "He's overreacting."

"Is he?" Nyteshayde rose a brow. "Imagine something for me.. All that time you spent in Fleshwerks. All the changes you made and the work you did. That place is your pride and joy, right?" She asked, and Drakkon gave a small nod, curious to her point. "Now, imagine, after all those years and all you accomplished, that you left Valeah in charge of it. And she sent it in a completely opposite direction than you had and essentially ruined it from the inside. Whether she meant to or not."

"I'd never leave Valeah in charge of Fleshwerks. She couldn't handle it." Drakkon tried.

"You don't think your father had the same thoughts about you?" She huffed. "You have no idea how long he toyed around with the idea of putting you in charge before he actually did so. He did it because he knew it would get you out of your rut, and he hoped you would be able to rise to the responsibility." She said. "Imagine how he must have felt when you _didn't_."

"I'm trying." Drakkon insisted.

"You're not." Nyteshayde shook her head. _"That _is why it bothers him so much. You are in charge of everything he worked for, and you aren't taking it seriously. The man has no peace of mind anymore. You might think you're the only one struggling with this, worrying about it, but you're not._" _She paused, giving a glance to the door. "Just, please, do what he says. He knows what needs to be done in order to set things right, but you have to be the one to do those things. He can't anymore, because you _are_ the one in charge, now." She waited, and Drakkon gave a nod. "Thank you." She said with a weak smile before she stood straight and left the room, as well. Drakkon sat for a bit, packing his pipe and and lighting it as he leaned back in his chair. As child, thinking about growing up and taking over the citadel, he had naively thought it would be simple. His father made it all look so easy.

Drakkon hadn't left the study in months. He hadn't needed to. With being turned into a death knight twelve years prior, eating was a luxury, more than a necessity. He didn't sleep, and therefor had no use for a bed. Though the vast majority of death knights partook in the activities of eating and sleeping, it was more of a habit than a need. Drakkon had no desire for them. Though this made it easy to remain shut away, perhaps the time had come to see for himself what Northrend had become. He hadn't even left the security of the citadel for years. With a slight mental hesitation, he rose from his seat, heaving open the doors to the balcony and looking over the railing at the chaos below. He really had made a mess of things, hadn't he?

As he looked up to the skies, gray, threatening clouds rolled overhead. A sign of yet another impending storm. They were coming more frequently, lately, and they always seemed to get worse. For the moment, though, it was fairly still. Drakkonlet out a sharp whistle, calling down one of the frostwyrms that circled the citadel. It landed quickly and knowingly crouched to allow Drakkon on it's back. As he settled onto it, grabbing hold of one of the skeletal dragon's vertebrae to hand on, it took off under his control.

As he flew over the area, it became clear just how drastically the place had changed. It was a war zone, in all aspects of the word, and an unsettling cold had gripped the continent. Not the usual chill the northern lands always had, but much more raw and ruthless than it had ever been. Luckily enough, he seemed to go unnoticed by the fights below. With the dragonflight on his side, he didn't have anything to fear, in the air. Of course, this misinformed assumption was what finally brought him down. Having been locked away in his study for so long, he was unaware that, in fact, only a small handful of the dragonflight still held him in respects. The rest wanted him as dead and gone as the remainder of Northrend.

The storm had come in quickly, as if in aid to the dragons as they swooped in. The blizzard definitely obscured his vision enough to render him incapable of seeing them until they were upon him. He wasn't even sure which part of the continent he had been flying over, when they struck. The frostwyrm carrying him tried futilely to fight them off, but ut was greatly outnumbered. Having only one option left, Drakkon leapt from the wyrm's back, hoping he was over an area where enemies weren't waiting below to rip him asunder. The dragons swooped as they saw him leap, attempting to catch him before he was out of sight in the storm. In the thrashing of claws, flailing of tails, and gnashing of teeth, injury was inescapable. It took the feeling of claws in his back, and a hard knock to the head by his own desperately fighting wyrm to make him realize he wasn't getting away without drastic measures. He lashed with his claw, driving it into the stomach of the dragon who held him in it's claws. With a wild screech of agony and a violent jolt, it tore it's claws from him on instinct. As soon as he was freed from the dragon's grasp, he teleported through the air as far away as he could, and cast a spell on himself that made him appear to be invisible. Though the spell never seemed to last as long as he desired, it was enough to allow his escape.

At first, he truly believed he could simply walk away and make it back to the citadel. Despite the heavy storm he couldn't see through. Despite that he had no idea where, exactly, he was, or what direction he needed to go. Despite the creatures lurking about, waiting to kill him. And despite how much the hard knock to the head had actually effected him, as his mind was barred from rational thought and his vision began to become more obscured. It felt like he had completely lost any and all sense of reality. Everything he had clung to previously as solid and true had collapsed around him. It was as if he were falling. That was the sensation he felt, anyway, even though his feet were firmly on ground. He didn't even know how long he had been walking, what turns he had taken, or when he had even started. He didn't know where he was. The storm had picked up even more as he walked, and the hard, wind-whipped ice that fell easily tore at him. He had long since grown immune to the cold, however, and continued his aimless stride undisturbed.

It was his head that was bothering him. That relentless plummeting feeling, a deep ringing in his ears, and an overwhelming dizziness. It was certainly wearing at him. To look at him, it would appear he was lost in deep thought. The creases on his face looked like those of concentration and insight. This was not the case. His mind, his thoughts, were completely blank. The downward spiral was all consuming, and left no room for question or contemplation. The ringing was accompanied by a strange hissing, then, and Drakkon's steps stopped nearly at the same time. Then from the depths of his psyche,a dark, echoing laughter. Haunting and painfully familiar. Then, something snapped, and Drakkon twitched slightly before everything simply went dark and blank.


	2. Unexpected Guests

"Sir?" The voice sounded distant and deep. Somewhat muffled, even. "Sir, can you hear me?" He could, but his sight and voice had left him. Attempting to move proved futile, as well. "Sir?"

"What's wrong with him?" This voice seemed just as distorted as the first, but it was fairly easy to tell it was female.

"I'm not sure." The first voice replied. "I found him like this, out in the snow plains during my patrol, this evening."

"Do you think he's alright?"

"Again, I'm not sure. He's been completely unresponsive. Fetch a priest for me, would you?" The second voice must have complied, for the next few minuted went by quietly as Drakkon silently tried to regain control of himself.

"What's the problem?" A third voice spoke shortly. This one was female, as well, with an accent Drakkon pegged easily as Draeneic.

"I found him like this.. Is there anything you can do?" The male voice asked.

".. A death knight?" The woman seemed skeptical. "You found a death knight in Northrend, and you want to _help_ it? Have you lost your mind? He's one of _them_." A strong distaste was in her voice.

"We don't know that for sure." He argued. "There are mass amounts of death knights that have turned to our side. He could be one of us."

"And the fact that you found him in _Northrend_ doesn't spark and concern? If he _is_ one of the converted, how did he get here?"

"Fyrelilly." The male voice grew stern. "I have a sworn duty to protect. To help those in need. I will not ignore this on the chance that he isn't on our side. We can deal with that, later, if he isn't. Right now what I see is a man who needs help."

"Alright, fine." The one called Fyrelilly huffed. "I'll see what I can do." The voice sounded a bit closer, and Drakkon swore he heard her breathe an annoyed word. 'Paladins'. A paladin and a priest didn't seem like a great thing to wake up to, considering his state and who he was. Not to mention what other manner of forces were with them, whoever they were. Suddenly, he felt a slightly faded warmth on either side of his face, where the priest had placed her hands. He wanted nothing more than to push her away, but he still couldn't move. It began to feel like something was inside his skull, chipping away at a think barrier in his mind. "There's some sort of foul play at work, here." Fyrelilly said. "Like nothing I've ever dealt with before. It's very.. Dark.."

"Like what?"

"Well, if I had to give my own guess.. I would say the usual unconverted corruption. The Lich King's will." That wasn't what it was. Drakkon knew this, but it's not like he could tell them. Even if he could, he wouldn't be able to explain it without condemning himself, in the process. "But... It's much worse than that. Much deeper."

"We're still giving him the benefit of the doubt, here.. Can you not break through it? I could get-"

"I never said I couldn't get through it." She sounded offended. "I'm just warning you that there is a high amount of darkness within his mind. It's fighting me every step of the way." She mu8ttered, continuing to channel whatever spell she was using to free his mind. It was clearly working, as things were, very slowly, becoming clearer. He heard a loud crack, from within his own head, and flinched. At that moment, the warmth left his cheeks as the priest pulled away. "Sir?" Her voice sounded slightly less distant and muffled. "What is your name?"

"Drak." It was all he could manage to force out, but it would have to do. He couldn't even see these beings, yet. Perhaps it was best he not give them his full name, anyway. Though he could speak again, although with some difficulty, his vision and movement were still greatly impaired.

"Drak." The man repeated. "What happened to you?" The question was straight forward enough, but he still couldn't seem to find the answer.

"I.. Don't..." He started, his voice sounding a bit raspy and worn. Though, he was starting to hear more clearly, and his sight was slowly returning. "Where am I?"

"The Argent Vanguard, in Icecrown. How do you feel?"

"I'm not sure, yet." He muttered. Finally able to move enough to run a hand over his face and sit up. Then, it was like realization hit him like a brick wall. The Argent Vanguard? He quickly jumped to his feet in preparation, but his head spun and clouded at the motion. He stumbled, leaning against the support beams of the infirmary tent he'd been placed in.

"Hey, hey, relax!" The man spoke. "It's safe here. You need to rest."

"No, I.. I need to be going.." Drakkon said, attempting to sound certain, but failing due to his dizziness.

"That's not a wise decision." The priest advised, moving forward to help Drakkon stand straight. He flinched slightly at her touch and quickly looked to her. A night elf, which made her Draeneic accent questionable. She was remarkably short, for her race, and a large, dark hood hid her face in shadows, and long strands of indigo hair fell from beneath it. "Here, sit back down and relax. I'll get you something to eat to gain your strength back." Drakkon hesitated, but sat back down. Not so much for obedience, but the spinning in his head had him on the verge of blacking out. As he did so, the priest retreated around the tents of the infirmary and out of sight.

"So, you don't remember anything?" The man asked, gaining Drakkon's attention. He was a human paladin, with dark hair and green eyes. Everything about his armor and stance, said he was in a position of power.

"Not particularly." Drakkon replied, scanning the area. The other woman he had heard in the beginning was there, standing back and watching in concern. A blood elf, easily recognizable, to Drakkon, at leas, as a mage. She had bright red hair, pulled back into a ponytail, and the typical bright green eyes of her race. Other than the incident in Theramore twelve years ago, he had done well in hiding himself from Azeroth. Anything these forces knew, was what had been relayed to them. He was slightly surprised, however. It seemed like they would have been told enough to easily recognize him. There were plenty of attributes about him that they could use for identification purposes. His claw, the scars over his blind left eye, or the fact that he was a deathknight who preferred to use his past life's mage abilities and armor, to list a few instantly noticeable things. That, and they should have been told his name. Though he had only given them a portion of it, the connection could be made easily enough.

"What's the last thing you remember?" The blood elf asked.

~_You remember nothing..._~ The dark, eerie, growling whisper of a voice echoed through Drakkon's mind, and he quickly suppressed the urge to call out in alarm. An instant pit of dread formed in his gut. The voice was all to familiar to that of the night elf that had haunted him for years. Kil'sha.

"I'm.. Not sure." Drakkon forced himself to answer the mage's question. "Drakes.. I got knocked off my drake." He muttered. "I should really be going." Even as he said it, Kil'sha's voice resounded a dark laugh in his skull.

_~My dear boy.. You know you can't leave. What is it that's waiting for you back at your precious citadel? The place is better off without you!~ _He felt sick. Drakkon gave a slight shake of his head and heaved a sigh. It was all in his mind, nothing else. He began to stand again, but the voice snarled. _~SIT, BOY!~ _As it spoke, a sharp pain shot through his head, and he fell back down with a wince.

"Alright, you need to relax and ease your mind. You can't even stand. As I've said, you're perfectly safe, here, there's nothing to worry about." The paladin assured. "Here's Faiyte with your food." He gestured to the priest, returning with a plate. "You're welcome to stay here as long as you need. Please, take advantage of the hospitality." At this, he started away, saying something to the priest as he passed her. As she reached Drakkon, she held out the plate of food expectantly.

"It will help." She said, reading his reluctance. "I know death knights don't _need_ to eat, but it will offer some assistance in your recovery. The sooner you can stand on your own, the sooner you can go on your way." The argument was valid, and he took the plate. She gave an approving nod, then she, too, left. As she did, the blood elf hesitantly moved forward to sit before him.

"You said you got knocked off your drake.. How?" She asked, watching him reluctantly take a bit of the food he'd been given.

"I was attacked by the dragonflight." He answered, glancing up to her. "That's all I remember." He added, having no interest in further interrogation. She gave an understanding nod.

"How did you die?" She asked suddenly, and he looked up from his plate in slight surprise. He hadn't been expecting that.

"A druid." He said simply, hearing Kil'sha's dark echo of laughter. She regarded him a bit and he finally set his food aside after only eating a small portion. His paranoia got the better of him. He never really had trusted anyone else to prepare his meals.

"So, are you.." She paused, faltering a bit. "Are you one of the converted?"

".. Converted?" He repeated, raising a brow.

"Oh, sorry, it's a term the Crusade has come to use. It's what we call the death knights that have broken free of the scourge."

"Oh." He nodded. "If you're taking my word for it, then yes." He lied, but she gave a smile and a nod. She was far too trusting. A quality that reminded him of his brother.

"Listen, I know.. Well, I can see you've got no interest in the food." She said, gesturing to it. "I suppose a health potion might have the same effect. Do you want me to go find one for you?" He thought a moment, then gave a nod. He needed a while alone to think. If she remained there, she would only expect interaction. He knew that. At his acceptance to her offer, she rose from her place in front of him to head into the main part of the settlement.

_~What do you think would happen if the Argent Crusade became aware they had the Lich King, in a weakened state, right in their own base?~ _Kil'sha's voice surfaced, again. Another valid point. What could he do, though, if he couldn't even stand? There was nothing to do but sit there until morning and hope to recuperate by then.

There were many questions floating around unanswered, that ran through his mind as he sat. First and foremost, how had Kil'sha managed to escape the confines of his subconscious? Was it real, like the nightmares had grown to be? Or, perhaps, Drakkon had finally lost it, and it was a simple manifestation of his own twisted dementia. The second question was the most relevant to his kingdom. How had the Argent Crusade managed to make it back into Northrend? With the constant watch of his won forces monitoring the shorelines and skies, it was impossible. Even if it was something as obvious as a few of his soldiers not doing an adequate job, it didn't explain how they could make it into the wreckage of the Vanguard and rebuild. Right in Icecrown. Right under his nose. Reconstruction would have been noticed, and dealt with accordingly. Along with this rose a new question. How long had they been there? Clearly long enough to rebuild the camp and, from the looks of it, expand graciously.

The original camp had been small. There hadn't even been any proper buildings other than a few small shacks barely big enough to fit two people comfortably inside. Now, it had several buildings, towers, along with the infirmary he was in and a few small shops and armor repair centers. The entire settlement was cased in by a tall, thick brick wall, as well. This would have taken more than a year to accomplish, even with a large disposal of workers. Did this mean there were other areas in Northrend that had been compromised? What had they done, found out, while they had been there? Drakkon clearly had plenty to deal with, upon his discovery. Once he got back to the citadel. Just how long had he been away, anyhow? Maybe, if it had been long enough, and they were looking for him, they might stumble upon the Vanguard, anyway. Then again, he wanted his questions answered before the camp could be destroyed.

"Here. It isn't very strong, but we've recently had to deal with Vyrkil forces. Our stocks will be a bit limited until we can get more supplies in." The mage said as she returned, holding out a vial filled with the common red liquid of a healing potion. Drakkon took it, gulping it down quickly. Health potions, in his own opinion, had a very bitter, unpleasant taste to them. Though the potion, indeed, wasn't very stong, it did help a bit. He felt less dizzy, and he didn't have the heavy feeling anymore. "Better?" She asked, and he gave a nod, handing her the empty vial.

"How long have you been in Northrend?" He asked outright.

"Me, personally? Or the Crusade?" She asked, seeming glad he had willingly struck up conversation with her.

"The Crusade."

"It's been about three years, now." She said. "Well, three and a half, if you count the initial scouts. Brave men. They came here to clear the old base of any scourge inhabiting it. If I remember right, there were ten of them. They kept the base secure while workers were brought in to rebuild. Mortecai was among them. Faiyte, too." She said, then a look of slight shock took her. "You haven't even been properly introduced to anyone, yet. Mortecai Kaige, that was the paladin who was here. The one who found you. And Faiyte Fyrelilly, the priest. My name is Mystique Solara." She announced.

"You said there were ten, before.. How many are there, now?"

"Well, it's difficult to put a number on it, since a lot of the Crusade stationed here are on a rotation system. But I would say, at any given time, there are about fifty of us here, at least. Often more, but hardly ever less." She shrugged. Fifty?

"And how did you.. The Crusade.. Get back into Northrend?" He asked.

"Solara." The priest, Faiyte, had overheard his question, and spoke the blood elf's name authoritatively. "Come with me. Let him rest." Her attempt to make it sound as though it wasn't Drakkon's interrogative question that bothered her failed. Solara, however, seemed to know her place. She followed the priest away obediently after a short nod in parting to Drakkon.

It took most of the night before Drakkon was able to stand straight on his own. He was still quite dizzy, and the dizziness was making him tired. Sleep was something he refused to allow. Drakkon had quickly decided that he shouldn't risk trying to leave in his condition. He took the rest of the night to wander the camp, learning it's layout and resources. It was heavily guarded at all times. Plenty of cannons and ammunition were perched on platforms half way up the tall brick wall, and larger ones sat atop pillars spaced out evenly to cover every angle possible. They were clearly prepared for any attacks. By the time the sun rose in the morning, Drakkon had been around the camp quite a few times. It was Kaige, the paladin from the night before, that broke his path.

"Good to see you on your feet, again." He called as he approached, making Drakkon slow to a stop with a stiff nod. "Now that you're feeling better, perhaps you could answer a few questions." He didn't wait for Drakkon to reply, only gestured for him to follow as he turned and started into a nearby building. Drakkon hesitated, but trailed after. He hadn't gone into and of the buildings, while walking around the camp. He hadn't wanted to draw more attention to himself than necessary. There were more guards inside, and a small gathering of officials crowded around a table, apparently waiting for him. This instantly jump started Drakon's naturally paranoid personality. A man in the center of everyone seemed to be the commander, judging from his age, armor, and demeanor.

"Good morning." He nodded to Drakkon as Kaige lead him over to sit. "You are the death knight my soldiers rescued last night?" He asked, and Drakkon gave a nod. "I am Thaddeus Duxar, of the Argent Crusade. May I ask your name?" Well, at least he has a chance to revise the mistake he'd made the night before.

"Kuldrak Donahue." He made up the name on the spot, and they seemed to accept it.

"What was it that brought you into Northrend? I'm sure you're aware of how dangerous it has become, over the years?"

"I am." Drakkon gave a nod. "However, the resources that come from the continent have become scarce and expensive. I thought I could come in and gather as much as I could." He lied.

"Not an entirely wise decision." Duxar said, a dissapproving tone to his voice. At least Drakkon had fooled him. "How did you get into the continent? The scourge forces are watching every border."

"I'm an alchemist." He said. "I used an invisibility potion when I reached the shore line to sneak past them." It took a bit longer for Duxar to accept this answer, but he eventually gave a nod.

"Well, you're lucky we found you before they did." Was his reply. It seemed like the worst part was over, at that point. Though, that fleeting hop was quickly shot down by the familiar voice of the priest from the night before. She moved forward from the crown, where she had been leaning against the wall.

"Sir. If I may be so bold.." She began. "We are in Northrend, the heart of the scourge. How can we be so sure he isn't one of them, simply lying to protect himself?" Drakkon grit his teeth, looking back to Duxar.

"Fyrelilly, please." Duxar spoke. "I have this under control."

"I'm not disputing that." She paused. "I just believe we should approach this with a bit more caution."

"If he was truly a part of the scourge he would have left last night to report to the Lich King. We would be under attack by now." Duxar said, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"He wanted to leave." Faiyte said pointedly. "He was simply unable to do so due to the state we found him in." She paused. "Who knows, he could have left last night to let the rest of them know where we are. Our entire mission could be compromised. All the work we've done, all for nothing."

"If you had these concerns, you should have stayed to watch him." At this, Faiyte recoiled a tad bit.

"You know I couldn't..." She said. "And it is not _my_ job to watch over a potential threat that your subject brought willingly into the Crusade's camp."

"With joining the Crusade, you took an oath. You take on the responsibility to voice concern or take cautionary action upon seeing something you view as a threat. As for Kaige's behavior.. They were noble and selfless, as one in the Argent Crusade _should_ be."

"My apologies. I was under the impression we were here to put an end to the scourge menace, not take them in and care for them as if they were wounded children in need of coddling."

"Fyrelilly!" Duxar interrupted as she was about to continue. He was clearly upset. "I have things under control, here. I do not appreciate you questioning my decisions and speaking to me in this manner. For your information, the guards were instructed to watch him, last night, and they did. He never left, and he showed no signs of any ill intent." Duxar announced, and Drakkon was instantly glad he hadn't tried anything. "Now, calm yourself before I have you removed from the building." He ordered.

"Don't bother. I'll go." She hissed, moving around the table and through the door without another word.

"My apologies for our priest." Duxar said, gaining back Drakkon's attention. "She has trouble holding her tongue, and she doesn't trust, easily."

"It's fine. I understand." Drakkon nodded. He did, probably better than anyone. And, of course, the priest's fears were justified.

"Anyhow.. I can arrange for you to be taken back to the city, if you would like. Or, we could always use more help, here." Duxar said with a small smile. "You mentioned you were an alchemist, and we currently don't have one stationed here. The assistance would be welcomed, but it isn't an obligation, by any means. The choice is yours." The thought of being taken out of Northrend sickened him. He wanted nothing to do with the rest of Azeroth.

"I'll stay." He answered.

"Fantastic." Duxar said as he stood from the table, Drakkon following suit. "Give yourself another night to fully recover, and I will give you your fist assignment in the morning." As he said this, he held out his hand, which Drakkon hesitantly shook before leaving the building.

"Hey! I want to talk to you!" Drakkon turned to see the angered priest chasing after him. As she reached him, she took a quick glance around to make sure no one else would overhear, and Drakkon rose a brow in question. "You may have everyone else fooled, but I know better." She began. "I can read people, and there is absolutely nothing about you that I trust. I've encountered my fair share of converted and you are _not_ one of them. I can feel the darkness in you that, somehow, Duxar must have missed. Something worse that the other death knights I've met. Something even worse than the unconverted I've seen. Believe me, I _will_ find out who and what you truly are. I will not have everything I've been working so hard for be ruined by a meddling soldier of the scourge."

"If this is how you feel, then why did you bother helping me?" He asked.

"Because I'm not a _monster_." She said, rather accusingly. "You were not supposed to stay the entire night. Learn our base, interrogate Solara.. You were supposed to leave as soon as possible. And Duxar was _not_ supposed to ask you to join us!" She shot. I will get him to see things my way and, when I do, you'll be lucky if your twisted, undead 'life' last a second longer! With this, she moved past him, grumbling to herself in Draeneic.

The priest was going to be his undoing. He couldn't leave while she was in that frame of mind, or he was certain she would track him back to the citadel. However, the longer he stayed away from it, the more trouble could arise from his absence. Hopefully his 'assignment' in the morning would send him out of camp, giving him a valid opportunity to return to the citadel.


	3. Forced Freedom

"Where the hell have you been!" Silver exclaimed as Drakkon came into the room.

"It's a long, complicated story and I'm a bit pressed for time." He replied. "Where's Wolfe?"

"Out.. What's going on?" She demanded. "You know everyone is completely furious with you, right?"

"The Argent Crusade made it's way back into Northrend somehow." Drakkon began. "I've been at their camp."

"for a week?"

"I've been gone a week!" Drakkon rose a brow, and Silver's worried expression gre ans she slowly nodded.

"Are you.. Alright?" She asked. "You don't have a concept of time, you look horrid.. I mean, no one knows what to think."

"Can we focus on the fact that the Crusade has a base in Icecrown, again?" Drakkon huffed.

"How did you find them?" Silver asked, reluctantly switching the subject.

"It was kind of the other way around. They found me." He said. "They rebuilt the Vanguard, and added more to it."

"Did they know who you were?"

"No, that's the remarkable part. They had no idea. They asked me to join them."

"Drak, I know what you're thinking, here, but.. Maybe you should send someone else."

"They were suspicious of me. Of how and why I was even on the continent. If I send someone else that's just begging for them to catch on. Besides, I've already fooled the outsiders, once."

"And it resulted in the entirety of Stormwind chasing you down!" Silver argued.

"A minor mishap."

"Minor?"

"If Proudmoore hadn't seen me, it would have been alright." Drakkon shrugged. "That's not what this is about. No one in the Crusade knows me. As long as it stays that way, I see no danger."

"No danger? If they do realize who you are, the Vanguard is the worst possible place for you to be. The Argent Crusade is nothing but skilled soldiers trained to fight and kill _you_. You, specifically, Drak!"

"_If_ they realize who I am." Drakkon repeated.

"Well, if you made up your mind, already, why did you come back here to talk to me? You know I would argue."

"I didn't come back here to talk to you, I came back to talk to Wolfe." Drakkon said. "Tell him what I've told you. Also, tell him that, if he should stumble across the Vabguard, not to attack it. I have a few more things I need to take care of before we can get rid of it."

"If you change your mind and decide this really is too dangerous.. How do you plan on handling that? If they realize who you are, it will be a kill on sight reaction. How do you intend to make it out of there alive?"

"I'll figure something out. I always do." He shrugged. "Now, I've got to go." At this, he turned to leave the Citadel, again. He paused at the door. Something felt wrong. Before moving onto the long walk ways outside, he cast his invisibility spell. He knew he had to move quickly, after that, in order to remain out of sight until he was away from the citadel. It was a good thing he did so, however, for he noticed the priest, perched on her griffin, watching the citadel from the skies. Drakkon called to his mount, once out of sight, and took off unnoticed. He stopped by Fleshwerks which, luckily, wasn't under attack at that time. He directed all questions from his necromancers back to Silver and Wolfe in an attempt to save time as he headed for his lab. He hadn't been inside it in years, and the amount of damage to it spawned a deep anger withing him. However, the large saronite chests inside were untouched, having been locked and reinforced. He retrieved a large satchel and packed it full of his already completed potions and supplies before, finally, returning on his way to the Vanguard. He downed one of the potions on the way, and it took effect instantly. It had been becoming hard to keep himself awake, even though he didn't require sleep, anymore. The energy the potion restored was a very welcome feeling.

He completed menial tasks for the next few weeks. Gathering supplies, maintenance on the camp, and aiding in small missions at all hours. It was tiring, and rather degrading. Though, the majority of his work was creating potions and elixers for the Vanguard's stock, which was simple enough. The priest was making it rather difficult for him to acquire any of the information he wanted, and it was wearing at him temper. Even after the few weeks he had been in the settlement, he hadn't learned anything past what he had already knew. The camp was heavily armed and guarded, had been standing for three years, and was protected by a stealthing barrier, making it invisible from the outside. As for everything else, he had no idea. He couldn't even ask such things, either, because he was constantly being watched. Either by the priest, herself, or by her 'friends'. He would have to do something about that. However, Solara had told him a couple useful things. She had explained the guard schedules, and let him know how they had gotten into Northrend, undetected.

Apparently, mage portals into Dalaran still worked. Though the floating city had been destroyed and pulled to the ground, the portals brought them into the ruins. Also, Engineers were able to make their own portal device, letting them travel to almost ant region of Northrend they wished. Perhaps he would be able to find more information from her.

His thoughts were broken by the sound of cheering a short ways away, catching his attention. Curious, Drakkon changed his course to investigate. A group of different Crusade members stood in one of the camp's more spacious areas, watching as others dueled. He was instantly reminded of Wolfe. This was the sort of thins the paladin would eagerly jump into.

"Hey!" Solara called as she noticed him, happily making her way over. "I didn't think you were here."

"Where else would I be?" He asked, and she shrugged.

"It's a slow day." She said. "I thought you might have gone back to the city or something. Everyone's finding different ways to preoccupy themselves, today." At this, she gave a slight gesture to the duels. The group cheered again as one cast a spell, and Drakkon looked up, again. As he did so, he noticed the pries fly in from beyond the barrier, watching as she landed and went into one of the buildings. He had noticed that she left the camp every night, and would return in the morning.

"Where does that priest go every night?" He asked suddenly, causing the blood elf to raise a brow in question. "Fyrelilly." He clarified.

"Oh." She shrugged. "I'm not sure. She keeps herself rather private. I don't think I've ever even seen her face." Faiyte came back out of the building shortly, and joined the crowd of soldiers to watch the duels, as well. "What's the story between you two, anyway? Why does she hate you so much?"

"She doesn't trust me." Drakkon replied simply.

"Well, she doesn't really trust anyone." Solara said. "If she hated everyone she didn't trust... She would have everyone. What makes you different?" At this, he shrugged. The crowd cheered again as the duel ended, giving congratulations to the victor. Faiyte moved forward, casting healing spells over the pair, and the paladin she had been talking to gave a small smirk before walking forward to challenge her. After a while of protest, she finally gave in. "That was a mistake on Amril's part." Solara said, referring to the paladin. "Faiyte doesn't lose." She clarified as Drakkon gave her a questioning look.

"She's just a priest." He said skeptically, looking back to watch the duel. A paladin agains a priest seemed like an easy enough call to make.

"Just... She's very prideful, that one." Solara said as the duel began. The first thing Faiyte did was cast a protective magic shield around herself. Of course, this was expected of any priest. Knowing this prevented her from taking any damage, herself, she simply focused on blocking the paladin's attacks with her staff. Curiously, she hadn't attempted much retaliation, other than the occasional spell here and there, or pauses to replace her shield. It was easy enough to figure out her strategy.

"All she's doing is letting him wear himself out." Drakkon commented.

"Of course. That's all you can do against a paladin. Trust me, I've seen what she can do. She's got plenty of different strategies." Solara stated as the duel continued, Faiyte finally starting to strike back with more menacing spells as the paladin began to tire. "Casters like her.. Well, there's no beating her, like I said. I tried, once."

"Oh please, you could beat her if you actually tried." Drakkon said confidently.

"I _did_ try!" Solara insisted. "A mage can't beat her." At this, Drakkon rose a skeptic brow. Faiyte easily beat the paladin, once he was too out of breath to continue, and she chuckled slightly as she restored his health. "I've got an idea, hang on." Solara said, reading Drakkon's refusal to accept her statement and dashing forward. Drakkon watched as she stopped before Faiyte, saying something before gesturing back to Drakkon. At this, he gave a slight sigh. Solara was challenging Faiyte for him. Much to his distaste, Faiyte seemed to be much more eager to accept this challenge, than she was to the paladin's.

"No." He called out, earning both their attention. Solara looked disappointed, but Faiyte gave a proud, satisfied smirk.

"I understand." Faiyte gave a nod, crossing her arms. "I've had plenty of men decline for fear of being bested by a woman."

"Actually, I find dueling entirely pointless and a waste of time." He corrected. At this, Faiyte started towards him.

"If that's what you want to tell yourself." She shrugged. Drakkon scowled.

"Just drop it, Fyrelilly. We wouldn't want to ruin your reputation of being undefeated."

"_My_ reputation isn't what's at stake, here." She said. "I'm not worried. You're the one refusing to fight." She taunted.

"Alright, but let's at least make some form of a goal in it." Drakkon said. "If I win, you back off and leave me alone. No more supervision or tailing after me while I leave the Vanguard." She hesitated.

"And if I win.." She started. "You leave." At this, he gave a confident nod, and she held out her right hand to shake on it. Drakkon'e mouth twisted into a wicked smirk, and she realized why all too late. As she tried to withdraw her hand, he gripped it tightly in his mechanical claw, taking amusement in the fact she hadn't thought which hand she was asking for. She winced, but was able to push her pain aside and regain her composure quickly. As he released her hand, he quickly drew his sword. Faiyte gave an attempt to put up her shield, but Drakkon cast a spell to interrupt her, giving a swing of his blade that she hurriedly blocked with her staff. It became clear, as she continued to block his attacks, that her method for fighting a death knight closely mimicked the way she fought paladins. She was trying to wear him out. Though, she was sending more spells at him than she had at the paladin. Drakkon smirked. If she wanted a real death knight fight, he could certainly give her one.

He cast a spell that manifested chains and ice at her feet, trapping her in place. Then, he caused the ground beneath her to grow dark and writhe with corruption and deal damage with dark shadow magic. After this, he cast another spell to interrupt her attempt at making another shield, then plunged his sword into the ground. It shook, and a handful of ghouls quickly tore from the ground to leap at her, eager to attack. She swung her staff around, crashing it against the ice and chains that held her in attempt to free herself. Though it cracked it a bit, it didn't break it well enough, and she had the ghouls to worry about. She shifted the staff into one hand, and rose her free hand. As she did so, a large sphere of light expanded around her. It dealt more damage to the ghouls than Drakkon expected, and it caused healing effect on Faiyte, herself. She finally broke through the ice, and moved away quickly, finally succeeding in casting her shield. She cast more spells at Drakkon, intermittently creating the same light sphere as she's done before to kill off the ghouls. It would be a lie to say he wasn't somewhat impressed. As she continued to block his blade with her staff, he became impatient. He paused, casting a spell that caused his sword to duplicate and attack. Surprisingly enough, she was quick enough to block most attacks from both. And, what would have hit her, clashed into her shield instead.

The manifested sword continued to mimic any attack that Drakkon dealt with the real one, and Faiyte was fast to figure this out. With a quick, powerful heave of her staff, she forcefully knocked the sword from Drakkon's grip, causing it to spin through the air, nearly into the captivated crowd, and stick into the ground. Faiyte grinned widely as the manifested sword disappeared at the action.

"Had enough?" She panted. Drakkon didn't reply, only chuckled. "You're disarmed, I beat you."

"Not entirely." He said. As he did, there was a crack of electricity that broke the air as sparks and jolts came from his mechanical arm. Faiyte had a moment of panic wash over her, but it was long enough for Drakkon to take a swipe with his claw. As his bladed and electrified hand hit her shield, it fizzled and snapped as the surges of electricity quickly burnt it out. She attempted to block his next swing with her staff, but the hard metal of his claw easily broke through her staff, causing her to cry out in surprise.

She ducked, running a ways away and giving an attempt to stop him by summoning her won chains at his feet. He had seen them before. A priest's last hope line of defense to escape an undead being. He chuckled again. It was time to win this, once an for all. The chains remained behind as he moved, teleporting away from them to reappear right in front of Faiyte, who gave a sharp gasp and attempted to replace her shield. Though, the electric shock of his claw had the same effect as the first time, breaking the shield instantly. She tossed aside her broken staff and, to Drakkon's surprise, made a mad dash for his abandoned sword. With intrigue, he didn't do anything ro stop her. Though, as she went, he cast a frostbolt that chilled her to the core, preventing her from reaching the sword as fast as she would have liked. Since she was finally away from his claw, she desperately called another shield, reaching the sword and struggling to lift it. Drakkon laughed. It was too heavy for her. If she couldn't even lift it, how did she expect to use it? As she paused, attempting to cast a spell of her own, Drakkon reacted faster. The spell he cast literally multiplied himself. The manifestations didn't have their own thought pattern, he knew, and only continued to cast frostbolts at the priest. But, it was a great confusion tactic. Knowing this, Drakkon fell into timing with the fakes, making it impossible to tell which was really him. If she focused on one of the manifestations, he wouldn't be harmed, she would still be taking four times the damage h alone would do, and it would give him a chance to catch his breath. So, keeping himself masked among them was crucial. The only downside to it, was that the manifestations only remained for a set period of time. Faiyte looked completely baffled, and changed her objective to casting her shield when she could, and continually placing healing spells over herself. Though it wasn't doing much good.

Drakkon was able to judge, well enough, when the manifestations would disappear, and timed his actions accordingly. As they vanished, he teleported to her, using his claw to take her shield, again. She was heavily, and he swore he heard her heart pounding heavily in her panic. She futilely lifted his sword to block his attack, but considering how heady it was to her, his swing easily knocked it from her hand. She tried to cast her shield, again, but he interrupted her with a quick spell. She was running out of options. With a quick burst of energy, she bolted away, trying to head for a piece of her abandoned staff. Drakkon shifted, casting the dark, twisted black and violet strings of the deathgrip. It wrapped around her waist tightly, knocking the wind out of her and yanking her back through the air as she yelped in surprise. As she landed in front of him, ker knees buckled and she fell, crashing onto all fours and panting heavily.

"Had enough?" He copied her previous question with a slick smirk or satisfaction. Faiyte lifted her gaze, looking up to him before hanging her head, again. He wasn't even tired. She gave a nod, still struggling to catch her breath. It would be so simple for him to finish her off, at that point. A brief vision of driving his claw through her back, as she remained on all fours in defeat, even flashed though his mind for a moment. But, that wasn't the point. He had won their little wager, and such an action would only prove to the Crusade who he actually was. He lifted his fallen sword,sheathing it again before holding out his hand to her as she finally moved back to sit on her feet. She looked from him to his hand, then lifted hers to take it, allowing him to pull her to her feet.

"What the hell was that?" She breathed, quickly releasing his hand once she was upright. "I didn't know deathknights could still use the powers they had in life."

"Few can." He announced. The crowd had fallen into a hush, through the ordeal, waiting to see how Faiyte would react to being defeated. "So.. Our arrangement still stands?" He asked.

"Regrettably." She gave a nod. "I am a woman of my word, Drak. I won't bother you, anymore." She said, finally regaining herself enough to heal her wounds as the crowd began to talk among themselves. "But know I will still hunt you down with the full fury of hell behind me if you ever do anything to harm the Crusade's efforts." She added quietly, then turned to leave without another word to Drakkon, or anyone else.

"You were a mage!" Solara asked, beaming, as she moved from the crowd towards him. He nodded. "You have _got_ to teach me how you fight like that!" She grinned.


	4. It Only Gets Worse

Since learning Drakkon had full use and understanding of his former powers of a mage, Solara had become like a shadow to him. He had agreed to teach her and train her with one specific thing in mind. She was completely trusting and willing to answer and questions he had. And, without Faiyte or her friends watching him, he was free to ask whatever he liked. She told him all she knew. There were three bases she knew of, the Vanguard being the biggest. The second was in Dragonblight, and the third in Howling Fjord. She was under the assumption there may be a few scattered camps in other regions, but she hadn't seen them. She mentioned that any Crusade settlement was under strict orders to maintain the same sort of stealthing barrier that the Vanguard used. She said the Crusade, in it's entirety, had it's main focus set on the restoration of Dalaran. That it was their main mode of transportation into Northrend, and that many in the Crusade had personal desired to rectify it. Though, since it's fall, efforts to do so were thwarted, not only by the scourge's watch on it, but the complicated nature of the matter as well. For this, Drakkon was glad. The last thing he wanted was to have that wretched city back up, allowing anyone who pleased into his continent.

"How?" Faiyte spoke to him, as he sat on the wall of the settlement, watching in distaste as a group of Vyrkil in the distance fought a pack of his abominations and ghouls. Things apparently weren't getting any better. He had assumed his father took care of it, already. At Faiyte's voice, he glanced down. She was on the ground, which was a ways away, looking up to him.

"How what?" He asked.

"How did you manage to regain control?" She clarified, giving a look out past the barrier at what he had been watching, before looking back to him. "Come down here, I don't like having to yell and draw attention." She said. Drakkon sighed, then moved forward, jumping from the ledge. Faiyte gave a gasp at the action. The fall was far. As he fell, however, he suddenly disappeared in a small flash, causing her to huff in confusion.

"What?" He spoke from beside her, causing her to turn quickly in shock.

"Don't do that." She demanded, clearly startled. "Answer my question."

"What makes you think I know the answer?" He shrugged. "I have no idea why I can still use the abilities I could, in life. But, it's not like it's something I'm going to complain about."

"It doesn't make any sense. Usually, the Lich King's will, when he creates a death knight, erases everything. Memories, free will, past abilities.. Why not you?" He shrugged, again.

"How did you come to learn so much about death knights?" He asked, curious. "I thought the Crusade only taught the basics."

"I've known a few death knights, in my time." She said. "Ones who couldn't even remember what they used to be, let alone retain the abilities. I've known death knights who didn't even remember their own true names. Only what names they had been given."

"What else do you know?"

"The agreement was that I would leave you alone, not that I would answer your questions." She said pointedly, crossing her arms. "How long ago were you turned? When did you die?"

"By your logic, I shouldn't have to answer your questions, either." He said, moving past her to go back into camp.

"Alright." She said haughtily, gaining back his attention. "I know the Lich King's will cancels out any remaining consciousness of past life, but only if he wants it to. I've heard of some knights retaining their free will from their rebirth by the Frostmourne. So, by that knowledge, and the fact that you seem to have more control than any death knight I've seen.. Obviously the Lich King allowed that to happen on purpose, for some specific reason. I want to know why." She said. "What makes you so special, that he granted you that extra power?"

"That sounds an awful lot like meddling to me." Drakkon said, and Faiyte uncrossed her arms, holding them out in frustration.

"It's a valid point. Anyone would be curious."

"Find something else to be curious about."

"When did you die?"She repeated, taking a step towards him.

"Twelve years ago." He answered, and Faiyte cocked her head a tad.

"Twelve years.. That was when the Lich King started his mission to take back Northrend. That's when Dalaran fell.." She said, and Drakkon gave a nod.

"You think, with everything that happened, all the deaths, there wouldn't be knights made from it?" His argument was justifiable, and she gave a defeated nod.

"Solara said you died from a druid?" She finally said, in the form of a question. At the mention, Drakkon heard the familiar cackle of Kil'sha in his mind and gave an annoyed growl, to which Faiyte seemed more confused. Drakkon, however, had been sufficiently side-tract.

_~Go ahead, boy. Tell her how it happened.~_ Kil'sha growled. _~Tell her what I've done to you. I'd love to relive it!~_ He snarled. Drakkon gave a slight shake of his head, attempting to make it stop. _~I'm not a simple fly you can shake off, boy. I'm here to stay. Now, tell her my story. How I killed you, how I haunt you.. Don't forget the part about that wretched whore of a mother you've got. That's the best part!~_ At this, Drakkon swore, completely losing track of where he was in his anger at the moment. _~What? I strike a chord in you? Poor, pathetic child. There was nothing you could do, was there?~_ Kil'sha laughed manically, and Drakkon's hand rose to his head as his rage boiled. Faiyte, forgotten, watched in question and slight concern. She took a few steps forward, watching him cautiously. He seemed to be in an entirely different world, angry, and with a hint of pain. _~Of course, no one ever expected anything of you, anyway. You're useless!~_ Drakkon tried to block it out, repeating the words 'shut up' in his head continuously, but it only provoked Kil'sha's torment. _~It is, after all, so much more fun now that I can speak with you as I please. It got boring in here for the past twelve years. You haven't slept... Why not, boy? You don't want to play, anymore?~_ There was more laughter, then. _~Guess what I else I can do ,now!~_ Kil'sha yelled in between bursts of dark laughter. ~_SLEEP!_~ He ordered. As he did so, Drakkon's head spun, and he nearly collapsed. He would have, if ot for quickly supporting himself against the wall.

Faiyte gasped, moving forward to steady him. It was only then that he remembered she was even there, and he quickly looked to her. His vision was blurring, however, and Kil'sha's laughter was getting louder, closer, and more real. Faiyte said something, but Drakkon couldn't hear it. She seemed genuinely concerned. Then, she moved a hand to his face, to rest on his cheek. As he flesh touched his, Kil'sha's laughter was cut off by a sharp howl of pain, and Drakkon's vision began to clear again, as Kil'sha's voice disappeared all together.

"Are you alright?" He heard Faiyte ask. "What the hell just happened?" Drakkon moved away as he regained control of himself, backing out of Faiyte's reach quickly. He didn't answer her, only moved back into the settlement for his alchemy station. He rustled through his potions until he located one of the concoctions he had created to help keep himself awake, chugging it down quickly. He leaned against the table a moment, attempting to regain himself. It certainly wasn't a comforting thought to know Kil'sha, if it really _was_ him, and not a figment of his own imagination, was able to do that.

"Drak.." Faiyte had followed him. Drakkon gave a sigh, looking over to her.

"Yes, a druid killed me. I was turned into a death knight. I don't know _why_ I can still use my mage abilities, and no, I don't have any special connection with the Lich King." He listed, hoping she would simply go away. "Does that cover all your damn questions?"

"I was just going to ask if you were alright." She tried, taking a step toward him. At this, he quickly moved back, away from her, and she stopped. "What happened to you?"

"It doesn't matter." He said. "It has nothing to do with you _or_ the Crusade, so just stay out of it." He demanded. She paused, giving a slight nod before taking the hint and leaving him alone. Once she was out of view, he fell back against the wall, sliding down it to sit on the ground and running a hand over his face. What _had_ happened? He moved, taking out a small bag and opening it to retrieve his pipe, packing it with herb and lighting it rather shakily before drawing in a large breath of smoke.

He waited, avoiding any form of social contact, until the guards shifted that night. As they did so, he quickly ducked around the wall and beyond the barrier. He needed to return to the citadel. To fleshwerks, more specifically, and retrieve more of his potions. With Kil'sha's new ability revealed, he needed a lot of them, and he had to keep at least two on him at all times in case of emergency. He stopped in his lab, first, filling a bag full and quickly creating a few more for good measure. Then, he continued to the citadel, avoiding a few Vyrkil scouting the area as he went. The citadel was quiet. Though it was night, there were usually more knights and ghouls bustling about.

"Drakkon!" Nyteshayde's voice broke the silence, and he turned to raise a brow to his mother. She looked relieved, but it quickly turned to anger. "What the hell do you think you're doing!" She demanded, starting forward. "Do you have any idea how worried everyone has been? Knowing where you are, and not knowing whether or not something has gone wrong?"

"Everything is fine, mum." He tried, but she shook her head.

"It's not." She said. "The citadel was attacked today, Drakkon." Was that why it was so quiet? "Luckily we were able to fend them off, but it _should not_ have happened! The plan was to _fix_ this! You haven't been around to do that!" She accused in a huff. "You have no idea how furious your father is at you, at the moment." She added, and Drakkon gave a quick look towards the hall Nyteshayde had come from.

"Where is he?" Drakkon asked cautiously.

"Oh, he's here." She nodded, confirming his fret. "And you _will_ explain yourself to him."

"I thought he could take care of it without me. I mean, they obviously respect _him_ more than me."

"They do." Nyteshayde agreed. "But they know _you_ are in charge. We've been over this. Your father can't do _anything_ if you don't cooperate."

"This is important, what I'm doing." Drakkon tried.

"I'm not the one you need to convince." Nyteshayde said, turning and starting out of the room. "Come with me." Drakkon knew not to argue, and cautiously followed after her. "He's come back." Nyteshayde announced as they came into the room. It was the old council room. Wolfe was there, and Tonik. Silver was even among them, which was peculiar considering she and their father weren't on the best of terms, ever since her escape to Outlands. Arthas wasn't seated, but standing at the head of the table, looking stressed and annoyed. At Nyteshayde's announcement, his glare shot up to lock on Drakkon, who quickly halted by the door.

"I can explain." He said.

"Do so, then." Arthas demanded.

"The Crusade got back into Northrend using the old mage portals into Dalaran. Apparently they still work to bring others to the ruins of the city. They rebuilt and expanded the Vanguard. It takes up nearly the entire valley, now. They have bases in Howling Fjord and Dragonblight, as well, possibly more, smaller camps around Northrend. They use cloaking shields to stay unnoticed and that want to raise Dalaran." Drakkon explained quickly.

"So, the Crusade is trying to reclaim the city that you decided to recklessly destroy. Which, they won't be able to do, considering how many of our forces are still guarding it. That's all?" Arthas asked, and Drakkon faltered. "Meanwhile the rest of Northrend is trying to hunt you down and destroy the citadel." He continued. "Which one seems like the larger issue to you?" He snarled, loudly, causing everyone in the room to flinch, not only Drakkon, himself. _"This_ is the behavior I was talking about!_"_

_ "_ Technically the crusade's goal will eventually amount to the same thing." Drakkon tried, and Nyteshayde gave him a quick glance in disapproving shock.

"It's not an _immediate_ issue!" Arthas shot, finally standing straight, from his position leaning forward on the long table. "The other races of the continent are banding together, Drakkon! It wasn't one set group of them that attacked the citadel, today! It was all of them! And the next attack is going to be worse, I can guarantee it! Your own knights are fighting against you, telling them everything they need to know to take you down! Why do you think there's hardly anyone left, here!"

"No one wants to be ruled over by a psychopath on hiatus." Wolfe chuckled.

"Enough, Wolfe!" Arthas ordered without looking to him. Wolfe obediently sat back, quickly dropping his smirk. "The next time you leave this citadel for something completely asinine and irrelevant, don't bother coming back. It would be easier to tell everyone that you disappeared and handle it on my own, anyway!" At this, everyone else looked genuinely shocked.

"That's not fair, I- " Drakkon began.

"I will _not_ argue with you about this, anymore!" Arthas interrupted. "If you are unable to decide what is truly important, you shouldn't have a say in anything!"

"Honestly, I'm sure he could handle both issues. The Crusade will, eventually, become a threat." Silver tried, noticing Drakkon's peril. She quickly stopped, however, when Arthas shot her a quick glare in warning.

"So, what... I walk out that door right now and you just won't let me back in?" Drakkon huffed in disbelief.

"Try it and find out!" Arthas challenged. At this, Nyteshayde frowned.

"Arthas." She spoke, and he gave a glance to her. She didn't back down as Wolfe or Silver had, however. "I'm sure Drakkon will do what you ask him to." She said, giving an authoritative look to Drakkon. "But you also need to let him make some decisions on his own, or he won't learn."

"Look how that's worked out, so far." Arthas scoffed. "He's had Stormwind hunt him down, he ran away to Outlands, he allowed a spy into the citadel, that I'm still convinced caused his death-" Arthas listed, and Drakkon interrupted with a sigh.

"Tsage _didn't_ kill me." He insisted, earning his father's attention.

"How could she have?" Wolfe spoke up, raising a brow. At this, Drakkon faltered, and Arthas gave Wolfe a quick glance.

"It happened while she was in our midst and, at that time, no one else in the citadel wanted him dead." Arthas lied, looking back to Drakkon. "And.." He continued. "After finding out about her betrayal, which I _warned_ you about, you took reckless action in attacking Theramore, bringing down Dalaran, and subsequently severing any ties you had with the other races of Northrend in the process." He said, regaining his initial anger quickly. "So, no, Joliet, he will _not_ learn." He said, looking to Nyteshayde. "If he walks out of here, I'm _done_ trying, with him."

"What do you want me to do then?" Drakkon asked, finally giving in as he noted the grave seriousness in his father's words.

"_Stay here_ while I go round up everyone you need to speak with." He demanded. "When I do, you will apologize, admit you were wrong and acted recklessly. And you will agree with whatever I say." He finished, and Drakkon gave a short nod. At this, Arthas moved, causing Drakkon to step out of the doorway and move around the table, setting down his bag and taking a seat as his father left he room. It was tense and quiet in the room for a short while before Silver broke it by pushing her chair back and standing.

"There's really no need for me to be here." She explained, as all eyes fell to her.

"You're part of the council." Drakkon argued, and Silver looked to him. She rested a hand on his shoulder, giving it a quick squeeze before removing it. She knew him well enough to know he despised physical contact.

"I have no say in what happens tonight and you know it." She said. "And, frankly, things are too tense for he, here. You know as well as I do that i'm not actually welcome here, anymore."

"Nonsense. I'm in charge of the citadel, now, and I say you are."

"Not lately, Drakkon. And for the past couple of hours I've had to deal with more stress than I care to. You'll do fine without me here." She assured. "Just listen to him. He knows what he's doing." At this, she turned, giving Nyteshayde a hug and smile before leaving.

"He's still _that_ upset with her, then?" Drakkon muttered, and Nyteshayde nodded grimly.

"It's not going to change." She said. "I could do for a drink, before the council members get here." She announced, moving through the room. "You're welcome to join me. You aren't confined to this room, even though it may have seemed like it."

I'm fine." Drakkon called after her. Wolfe, however, gladly tailed after their mother, muttering something about alcohol and stress.

"Are you alright?" Tonik tried, watching Drakkon as he retrieved his pipe.

"Just grand." He muttered sarcastically, and she moved to Wolfe's abandoned seat, next to Drakkon.

"Here." She said, taking the pipe and puch of herb from him as she noticed him struggle against his nerves. "Everything will work out alright." She said as she packed the bowl of the pipe, looking up to him. "As for the Crusade, I'm sure he'll let you return, if you want, after you deal with what he wants you to." She gave a nod, handing the pipe back to him and watching as he lit it with a fire spell and took a long drag. "That isn't what's bothering you,is it?" She asked after a while of watching him smoke, gaining his attention.

"Not at the moment." He said, holding out the pipe to her. She gave a small smile as she took it, inhaling a puff of her own.

"You aren't going to tell me what's wrong, are you?" She asked, taking another drag as she watched him curiously.

"It isn't your problem." He commented. "And I'd rather not have to talk about it." At this, Tonik gave a knowing nod. Drakkon suddenly stood moving from the room and leaving Tonik to raise a brow in question. Drakkon moved through the citadel, rather purposefully, and stopped at a closed door, giving a quick knock. After a moment, it opened to reveal a tired looking Valeah.

"Hm?" She grunted, running a hand over her face. As she glanced up, a wide smile graced her face. She moved forward, wrapping her arms around Drakkon in a tight hug, which he returned with his un-clawed arm. "When the hell did you get back?" She laughed, pulling away to lean against the doorway and look up to him.

"Tonight. I'm apparently going to be here for a while, so I thought I would check in."

"How are things in the Vanguard?" She asked, curious.

"They're much more developed than I anticipated." He said begrudgingly.

"At least they haven't found you out, yet." She shrugged. "You can handle it." She assured confidently. At that moment, there was a grumble from inside the room about light being let in, and Valeah tensed as Drakkon gave a glance past her, then looked back to her in question. "Yeah, we should talk.. Hang on." She muttered, going back into the room and closing the door. Drakkon waited, growing agitated as he heard muffled voices within the room before the door finally opened, and Valeah nodded him inside.

"Dad, this is Tacoon." Valeah said, rather cautiously. She gestured to a very tired looking man, she seemed to be struggling quite a bit with something. He was fairly tall with dark shoulder length hair with rather peculiar yellow eyes.

"Nice to meet you." Tacoon spoke, though his slightly trepid tone betrayed the words he spoke in it. Drakkon said nothing, examining Tacook a bit before looking to Valeah.

"You're off to a bad start." He muttered as he looked back to Tacoon, who still looked as though he was holding back some sort of explosion. "Transform back, before you hurt yourself, for Elune's sake." He huffed, and Tacoon gave a questioning look to Valeah. She sighed with a nod. With a breath of relief, Tacoon changed, growing in size, sprouting fur, and taking on the facial aspects of a wolf.

"Sorry, I was too tired for that." Tacoon grumbled, his voice much deeper and more rugged than it had been while in human form.

"A Worgen, Val. Honestly?" Drakkon muttered, looking back to his daughter.

"If you got to know him, you'd like him." She tried.

"Invalid. I don't like anyone." Drakkon said, and Valeah huffed.

"You wouldn't _mind _him, then" She corrected herself.

"Where did you come from?" Drakkon asked, looking to Tacoon.

"Well, technically, from my parents." Tacoon began, and Valeah quickly mimicked her father's look of disapproval. "Alright. No jokes, then.. Gilneas, originally. After the curse broke out and we were moved, I was staying in Stormwind." He explained, and Drakkon gave Valeah a look of slight exasperation.

"He means how we met." Valeah said. "He was wandering around in Sholozar Basin, trying to get minerals, but the ghouls down there have gone rampant. I knew it's one of the few areas the other races tend to elave alone, so I was there just to get out of the citadel for a while. I called the ghouls off him before they tore him apart."

"I had it under control." Tacoon argued.

"You didn't, hun. There were hundreds of them." She said, giving him a quick smile. "Naturally, he was curious why the ghouls listened to me, so.." She sighed. "He didn't seem to be any harm, so I told him who I was. He hasn't said anything."

"You don't know that." Drakkon muttered.

"Well, I trust that he hasn't."

"How long ago did all this happen?" He asked the question a bit reluctantly. He knew it was likely a while ago. Though, with the way he had kept himself locked in his study, he wouldn't have known.

"It's been almost two years, now." Valeah answered. There were sounds from the main part of the citadel, and Drakkon gave a slight glance back to the door.

"If the alliance comes around knowing thins they shouldn't, you will be blamed." Drakkon warned to Tacoon, who gave a nod. Then, Drakkon turned to leave the room, knowing it would cause further trouble if he kept the council waiting longer than necessary.


	5. What Were You Thinking

"I thought you'd left." Nyteshayde sighed, looking slightly relieved to see him emerge from the hallway and giving hum a motion to hurry.

"I wanted to talk to my daughter." Drakkon muttered. "I assume I shouldn't be persecuted for that?" He said as he neared her, and she fell into step with him "Did you know about the Worgen?" He asked, looking down to her.

"Tacoon." She nodded. "He's a gentleman, Drakkon, don't worry."

"Why wasn't I told about it?" He asked, annoyed. "It wasn't exactly enjoyable to randomly find him in her room."

"She's twenty six years old, Drakkon. And you weren't told because you were never available to tell. She didn't want to cause you the extra stress of it, anyway. You may not like it, but there's nothing you can do about it without her hating you, in the end. As long as he keeps treating her with respect and adoration, there really is nothing to worry about." She stopped as they reached the council room, giving him a look as though tot ell him to prepare himself, before leading him inside. It got very loud, very fast. There were leaders of all the races there, taking up the entire table. As Drakkon entered the room, they were sent into an uproar, spouting accusations and insults in anger. It was quite overwhelming. Drakkon immediately looked to his father, who wasn't even seated at the table, for lack of room. He didn't calm the room as Drakko0n hoped, but only gestured to the table. He expected Drakkon to ease them. Drakkon gave a deep sigh, thinking quickly. Then, he reluctantly moved forward.

"I understand why you're all upset with me." He called over them, and they finally dialed down their noise to listen, although skeptically. "I acted out of turn, and I apologize. I made rash decisions without consulting you, and I shouldn't have. At this, there were a few more boasts about his ill mannered actions and how he shouldn't be left in charge.

"My son acted like a fool." Arthas finally spoke up, moving away from the wall and easily grabbing their attention. "No one is here to dispute that fact. There is no need to continually bring up his wrong doings or dwell upon them. We are here to rectify the situation and ease the senseless war between our once united forces." Drakkon remained quiet, even as a few looked back to him. His father was much better at this than he was. "As he's already said, he acted irresponsibly. He was irrational, at that point, based upon events that not only put the citadel in jeopardy, but the entirety of Northrend. And, although those events shouldn't have happened, he was trying to act upon the interests of the entire continent, as a whole, by eradicating the horde and alliance forces that were rampaging every region." He continued, holding their attention, even though they all looked as though they wanted to argue his slight defense. "Drakkon has apologized, and noted the error in his actions, and I can personally assure it will not happen again." As he said this, he gave a warning glance to Drakkon, who was quite stunned at the statement. His father has lain his own reputation on the line, just then. "We've called you all together to put an end to this feud and ask for your allegiance, again."

"Why should we put our trust into a man who's already betrayed us, once?" The Vyrkil leader demanded, shooting a look of distaste to Drakkon and gathering a few collective replies of agreement. From the depths of his mind, Drakkon heard Kil'sha's twisted and amused chuckling, making his blood boil slightly. "Someone who ignored how his actions would affect the rest of us. He's completely incompetent!" At this, Drakkon frowned, moving forward.

"Everyone makes mistakes." Arthas answered quickly, seeing Drakkon's attempt to argue with the Vyrkil and interrupting it.

"We can't be certain it won't happen again." This came from the elected leader of the rebelling death knight group, who leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "Personally, I'd like to avoid and circumstance which places the incompetent fool in charge. He's an imbecile!"

"This _is_ still my son we're talking about here." Arthas said, a thick warning in his voice.

"With all due respect, to _you_, your son isn't capable of this responsibility." He said. "He has no regard for anyone other than himself!"

"Alright, really!" Drakkon shot, and all eyes snapped to him. "What, exactly, about any of the things I did effected _any_ of you in a negative manner? Since the forces of Azeroth were pushed out of Northrend, your numbers have all increased, the resources of the continent are ours, again, and we have no further need for constant guard on our own settlements! Everything is ours, again, the way it should be! And you all want to sit here and scrutinize me because I did my _job_! You all want to piss and moan about the fact that I went over your heads? Which don't count, anyway! Why the hell-"

"Drakkonus!" Arthas hissed, stopping him. It was already too late. The leaders were outraged, again.

"You see! He has _no_ regret for his selfish actions!" The leader of the dragonflight hissed.

"What was selfish about them!" Drakkon demanded.

"The fact that you made the final call, by yourself! That you had no consultation or compliance from any of us before you acted!" The Vyrkil spoke up.

"I'm _allowed_ to make the final call!" Drakkon snarled. His anger was getting the better of him, and the rising of Kil'sha's laughter wasn't exactly helping. "I'm in charge, here! Meetings like this with any of you are nothing more than a facade meant to ease your pathetic worries and make you feel like you have a say in anything! That's all they have _ever _been! You're all idiots if you think your opinions ever really mattered!" That was all it took. Chairs clashed to the ground as the leaders united, a joined force with the common goal of tearing Drakkon limb from limb. This was when the panic set in. He had messed everything up. In a flash, ghouls and knights poured into the room, distracting the leaders. This, apparently was a precaution his father must have set up, for Drakkon knew nothing about it. The leaders were still aiming for Drakkon, however, roaring threats in a rage. Drakkon, regrettable, had moved himself into a corner.

Then, there was a loud bang, and the room shook heavily, knocking everyone off their feet. In the fray, Drakkon noticed in astonishment that his father held Frostmourne. He must have retrieved it from Drakkon's study before the meeting, where Drakkon had left it. He also noticed a large, door shaped portal he'd often seen his mother use upon visits to the citadel. It was a passage way to their stronghold. It was then that he saw Wolfe, Tonik, and Nyteshayde were gone. They had already gone through. The ground shaking effect Arthas had caused was his way to let Drakkon escape the leaders. He was quick to his feet, teleporting over the table in a rush as the others rose angrily after him. He gave a brief pause at the portal, looking to his father.

"Valeah." He said, hesitating.

"I'll handle it! Move!" Arthas ordered, quite literally forcing Drakkon through the portal. Drakkon stumbled forward, but remained on his feet. He spun on the spot, but the portal was gone.

"Where's your father?" Nyteshayde demanded, moving forward as a look of fret washed over her.

"He.." Drakkon faltered. "Valeah was still in the citadel. I tried.. He pushed me through." Nyteshayde's worry increased, and she gave a look to where the portal had been. Then, she glared back to Drakkon.

"What were you _thinking_ Drakkonus!" She nearly screamed the question, looking rather like she wanted to punch him. At this realization, he took a step away from her.

"I didn't think-"

"You _didn't_ think!" She repeated, accusing. "I asked _one_ thing of you Drakkon! One! And that was to just _listen_ to your father! I can't believe you, right now!"

"Mum, calm down. Everything will be fine." Drakkon tried.

"No it won't! Not after what you just did!" At this, she moved away from him, pacing slightly in an anxious manner. It was quiet. It was taking longer than it should have, and everyone knew it. Drakkon's nerves were getting the best of him. If his actions got Valeah hurt, or worse.. He flinched slightly at the thought of it, but it started him into motion. He moved for the balcony, watching over the railing. The sight certainly wasn't pleasant. Though he couldn't see what was happening inside the citadel, itself, he could see the other forces swarming the outside as knights, ghouls, and constructs attempted to fight them off.

"Drakkon!" Wolfe called, and he turned quickly to see Valeah rushing for him. She quickly wrapped her arms around him in a hug. Everyone else had followed, but there were still no signs of Arthas, himself.

"What happened, Val?" Drakkon asked, but Valeah refused to pull away.

"Were they all really trying to kill you, just then!" Valeah asked. She was in tears.

"I'm fine. What happened?"

"Where is your grandfather? Why didn't he come though with you?" Nyteshayde asked, and Valeah finally pulled away to look around to the group.

"He.. Knew they would come here, if he wasn't there to distract them. He wants us to move to the death gate, while we have a chance." She explained, looking to Nyteshayde. "He said you could get us there." Nyteshayde nodded, motioning for them to follow her through the stronghold, where she opened a portal and gestured everyone through.

"How long has that been there?" Wolfe asked, once they were regrouped. "I've never noticed it."

"It's recent. With everything that's been going on.. Your father takes precautions." Nyteshayde said, then looked back to Valeah. "How was he, when you left?"

"He.." Valeah hesitated a bit. "There's a lot of them, and more were coming in, as I left." She paused. "He's.. Hurt.." At this, Nyteshayde's worry turned to panic, and she immediately started for the door of the structure they were in. Wolfe quickly snatched her, however, preventing her from leaving.

"Let go, Wolfe!" She ordered, struggling futilely against him.

"You know, for a fact, he wouldn't want you willingly placing yourself in that situation." Wolfe argued.

"Let _GO!_" She snarled. "I can't just stay here and leave him there alone!" She was becoming frantic, and a wave of guilt swept over Drakkon.

"There were still a lot of knights there, when I left." Valeah tried to sound assuring, but it didn't ease Nyteshayde's attempts to break free of Wolfe's grip. "Really it.. It looked promising. I think they've got it under control."

"I have to be sure! I need to go help!"

"I'm not letting you go anywhere." Wolfe announced, deadly serious. At this, Nyteshayde's attempts stopped, and she watched the door a bit before her knees gave. Wolfe was able to keep her upright, however, and allowed her to cling to him for comfort. "It'll be alright." He said, but the look he gave Drakkon, full of accusation and anger, rendered his statement unbelievable.

As the time passed, the tension grew. Finally, however, a portal formed that, gladly enough, Arthas came through. He certainly looked hurt, but he didn't act like it as he immediately crossed the room for Drakkon. In one fast motion, he snatched Drakkon's robes, slamming him back into the wall.

"What was that!" He roared. Drakkon, at that moment, was entirely petrified. He'd never seen his father quite that angry. "Answer me!" He demanded, and Drakkon struggled to find his voice. He was entirely grateful when Nyteshayde broke free from Wolfe, rushing forward to break them apart by clinging to Arthas in a tight hug. He reluctantly allowed her to do so, but his anger remained.

"Are you alright? What happened?" Nyteshayde asked, refusing to move.

"I'm fine. The citadel is secure, for now." He muttered. "They _will be_ back." He added sharply, glaring to Drakkon.

"I didn't-" Drakkon tried.

"Don't you even _dare_ try to defend yourself, right now! There is _no_ excuse!" Arthas interrupted. "There _is_ no rectifying the situation, thanks to your behavior!"

"What do I do, then?" Drakkon asked.

"Does it actually _matter_ to you, what I say?" Arthas snapped. "Figure it out for yourself, I'm _done_ here!"

"Oh, come on, I didn't mean to-"

"You didn't mean to _what_, Drakkon!" He snarled. "To ruin everything? Directly defy me?" Nyteshayde finally released him, inspecting his wounds and distracting him a bit.

"I'm sorry." Drakkon said, feeling defeated. "I'll listen, just tell me what to do."

"No." Arthas's glare returned to his son. "You _won't. _I already said, there _is_ nothing left that you can do."

"I was.. Stressed.. I wasn't thinking right."

"When _are_ you!" Arthas scoffed. "As for being 'stressed'.. It comes with the job, Drakkon, learn to manage it!" He moved, stopping Nyteshayde and gesturing to the portal that still stood. "Go back to the citadel, it's fine, now." He said, and the small group complied. "Not you." Arthas commented to Drakkon. "Go back and do whatever nonsense you were doing with the Crusade. I can't _deal_ with you, right now." At this, he moved through the portal, and it closed behind him. Drakkon cursed loudly, resting back against the wall. What had he done?


	6. The Weather Itself

Sneaking back into the Vanguard was much simpler than he had anticipated. With a simple invisibility spell, he was able to make it back into it's walls without being noticed. It was only a small sense of accomplishment, however. After the events of the night, he couldn't feel much other than guilt. And, on top of everything else, he'd lost his potions in the chaos. The tired feeling refused to go away, and it gave way to Kil'sha's taunts far too easily.

_~You've really created quite a mess, haven't you?~_ He snickered. _~I have to say, it's the first time I've been proud of you. Taking down your own wretched kingdom, complicating the lives of everyone around you.. It's pure chaos there, now. Honestly, putting all their lives in danger. Your own daughter?~_

"That's _your_ granddaughter." Drakkon muttered to himself. Kil'sha apparently heard it, however, for his incessant cackling ceased.

"Hey." Solara's voice distracted him, and he glanced up to see her approaching. He was surprised to see daylight. It appeared to be mid afternoon, already. How long had he been lost in his thoughts? "Faiyte mentioned.. She said something happened to you, yesterday. I looked for you last night, but I couldn't find you." She commented. "Where did you go?"

"Home." He said, sounding more bitter about it than he'd meant to.

"Did something happen?" She asked carefully.

"Nothing I want to talk about." He said, standing. "I assume I've got work to do." He announced, starting through the camp. With how much time the young mage spent around him, it seemed like she should know, already, that he wasn't exactly open with anyone.

"Drak." Kaige called him as he passed, and Drakkon stopped, looking to him. "You aren't doing anything, at the moment, are you?"

"Not yet."

"Good, everyone else is pretty busy. We need another to fly some supplies down to Howling Fjord." He announced. "There's a big storm coming up fast, it needs to happen immediately." As he said it, he gestured for Drakkon to follow him through the settlement, towards the stable of griffins. He gave slight hesitation when he saw Faiyte loading packs onto one. "Honestly, I wouldn't ask unless it was completely necessary. The Vyrkil down there got riled up about something." About Drakkon. "They rampaged and found our base. They're really in need, and they need to have a lot of this stuff before the storm comes over them." He explained as they stopped, and Faiyte looked between them. She acted as though she wanted to argue, but she suppressed it, gesturing to a griffin that was already stocked up. As she finished, she swung her leg over the saddle and looked to Drakkon expectantly. Knowing there was no room to argue, he followed suit, and they took off.

The ride was simple enough. The storm was behind them, and the griffins were eager to fly away from it. The camp in Howling Fjord was in ruin. Literally. One lone building was left in decent enough condition to shield the inhabitants from the oncoming storm, and there was a fairly large amount of them. Though, the camp wasn't even half as big as the Vanguard was. The settlers were grateful for the supplies, and gave an offer to shelter the pair until the storm passed. Faiyte, however, had confidently stated that they could beat the storm. Though Drakkon was skeptical, knowing how unpredictable the storms in Northrend had become, he foolishly followed her. Honestly, his misjudgment could easily be blamed on his distractions. Either way, they had no chance in skipping the storm. The wind had picked up quickly, slowing them, and the griffins, themselves, were reluctant to fly toward the storm. As they passed over Grizzly Hills, it hit hard.

The winds were so thick and strong that it, alone, threatened to throw then from their griffins, and the sound of it rang through their ears in loud whistles and howls. Not to mention the large shards of ice and chilling rain that fell hard, whipped around by the wind with enough force to tear through cloth. Finally, the griffins had enough, frantically fighting their commands in fear as they reared and bucked in the air. Hanging on became a challenge, and the blinding snow and ice was far too unsettling for the creatures. Faiyte had fallen first, and it was only in noticing this that Drakkon had been able to prepare himself. As the griffin bucked, he leapt away from it, casting a spell that slowed the speed of his fall considerably. He should have known better than to fly into the storm, in the first place. It didn't take long to locate Faiyte, since she couldn't move.

Though he couldn't quite make out what she said, he noticed her ankle twisted in a rather odd manner. She had broken it on the fall. She gave a wild gesture to their left, where he looked to see a cave. The clear course of action was to take shelter in it, but a loud, angry screeching broke through the air. Drakkon, unable to see through the storm, was caught off guard as he was snatched from above. A dragon, carrying him into the sky. He cursed, struggling against it. It was clearly from the dragonflight, and knew who he was, for it took special action in restraining his clawed arm. As the ground faded away, the dragon twisted, gnashing it's teeth at him. With a snarl, Drakkon swung his body, bringing a foot to the creature's chin as hard as he could. He was rather satisfied as he saw blood. He had caused it to sever it's own tongue with it's sharp teeth. It squealed in pain, dropping him.

Drakkon attempted to cast the same spell he had, previously, but as he tried, a sharp pain ran through his right arm. A jolt. He tried again, but got the same results. The ground came up fast. Whether from luck, or more misfortune, a bare tree slowed him with it's branches. He held his breath, bracing himself as he hit it. He heard and felt a few pops, and growled in pain, taking a moment to force it aside once he had actually made it through the mass of branches and to the ground. He glanced to the air, but didn't see the dragon. Hopefully, it couldn't see him either. Or, preferably, it had given up, assuming the fall was enough. With a sharp wince, he jumped to his feet and searched for Faiyte. She looked shocked to see him, balancing herself weakly on her staff. There was no time. The dragon could be looking for him. He snatched her, tugging her to his side before teleporting across the snow field and into the cave. It wasn't large, by any means, but it was still shelter from the storm and from the dragon. He allowed Faiyte to sit, gritting his teeth as he helped her lower herself and a sharp pain ran through his side. Without the noise from the storm blocking everything out, she heard him wince and looked up.

"Oh, light!" She breathed. Her reaction caused him to look down, letting out a sharp breath as he noticed the source of the pain. A rather thick broken branch stuck straight through his side. With a quick movement, he tore it out, tossing it aside before doubling to the ground, leaning against the cave wall and gripping the wound in pain.

"Remind me again why we couldn't have stayed in the damn camp!" He shot in a half wince.

"I'm sorry, I just..." Faiyte tried, but faltered over her words. Drakkon gave an attempt to cast a spell to create a fire on a pile of twigs he noticed at the back of the cave, but the pain in his arm shot through him again, making him swear in anger. As he had attempted the spell, however, he noticed a bright, large burst of sparks. He looked to his arm, immediately. The metal plating on it had been clawed through, the wires broken. "I thought we could beat it.." Faiyte finally managed to answer.

"You thought wrong." He hissed, then pointed to the twigs he'd been aiming at. "Make a fire for yourself or you'll get frostbite in a matter of minutes." He ordered. Faiyte gave a nod, and painfully scooted over to gather the twigs into a more focused pile before setting them ablaze with a spell. Then, she looked up, motioning him over.

"I'm a death knight. Cold doesn't bother me." He assured, not wanting to move.

"And I'm a _priest_. Let me heal you." She said pointedly, gesturing him over again.

"Worry about your leg, I'll be fine."

"Get over here!" She demanded, and he rose a brow to her. She was serious. With a groan, he moved from the wall, starting over. She tugged the end of his robed slightly, commanding him to sit. She gave a grimace at seeing the wound up close, and looked to him. "You've got debris in there, Drak, I need to get that out."

"What for?" He asked, not wanting her to touch it.

"You could get-"

"What? An infection?" He scoffed. "I'm a _death knight_."

"Don't be a child, it will only take a moment." She said, proceeding to pick a few pieces of bark from the wound.

"Honestly!" Drakkon shot. "I know you hate me, but knock it off!" Se said, gripping her wrist to stop her.

"I've got it, it's done." She said, and he reluctantly released her. She quickly cast a few healing spells over him, and the pain dissipated easily, allowing him to relax. "Alright." She nodded, and Drakkon rested back, breathing a sigh. He was a bit confused, however, when Faiyte didn't attempt to heal herself. She seemed to notice the unspoken question, and leaned forward, pulling the end of her robes over her ankle to show him. The break was severe, and bone was piercing through her skin. "I can't heal it because the bone isn't aligned. I have to wait until the storm passes. Get back to camp..." She muttered. At this, Drakkon moved, unhooking his cloak as he crouched before her. She watched curiously as he wrapped the cloak around his claw and looked to her.

"This is going to hurt." He said, and her mouth opened a bit in silent shock. With this warning, he gripped her leg, above and below the break, the cloak being a preventative measure against his bladed hand cutting her. He yanked quickly, snapping the bone back in and causing Faiyte to cry out loudly in pain.

"Light! That wasn't fair at all!" She howled, wincing.

"Hurry up and heal it while I'm holding it in place." He demanded, and she struggled to do so.

"Damn it, Drak, all I did was take a piece of bark out of your damn side!" She hissed, finally managing to heal her ankle. Though it looked in place and well enough, a rather large, painful bruise and swelling still remained. Drakkon moved back, unwrapping his claw and tossing his cloak to her.

"Here." He said as he did so. "For the cold." He explained briefly, beginning to inspect his arm.

"Thank you." She said, her demeanor changing at his generosity as she quickly wrapped herself in the fabric. "So... I'm sorry." He only gave a small grunt in reply, not even looking up from his mechanical arm. "I really did think... I hoped.. We could beat the storm back. I just.. I've been up here off and on for three and a half years. I know the storms up here can last for days. I wanted to be able to make it home, tonight. The storm was coming down from Storm Peaks, it would miss the Vanguard, so I thought if I could make it, there, I could make it home." She muttered, and he gave a small nod. "So, you can't cast spells if the claw doesn't work?" She asked.

"Most spells need to be channeled through both arms." He nodded. "I was completely useful there, for a while. Before I made this."

"_You_ made it?" She asked, shocked. "With one arm?" He nodded again. "By yourself?" Another nod. "Impressive." He gave a slight glance to her, then continued to toy with the wires in the mechanical arm.

"Do you have anything on you? Or was it all lost in the fall?" He asked.

"What do you need?" She asked.

"I don't know. I doubt you have engineering tools." He said, looking to her. She shook her head no. "Didn't think so. I'd have to see what could suffice." Faiyte moved, unhooking a pouch from her belt and handing it to him. He rooted through it a bit, before taking out a scrap of metal. He used it to pry off a few plates, easing his access to the wires.

"So, what happened to your arm?"

"The dragon tore into it." He said, examining the damage.

"I meant your real one." She clarified.

"Nothing special. Got cut off in battle."

"Don't death knights usually just.. Reattach.." She struggled.

"I was alive, at the time." He said. "I had to use a fire spell to cauterize the wound before I bled too much. I was told, afterward, that it couldn't be attached again, for risk of infection."

"But, you said you needed both arms to channel spells." She said, snatching a lighted twig from the fire and moving forward to hold it up, allowing him better lighting. He looked to it, then her, before continuing.

"I said most spells. And they were stronger, back when I was alive. It required less effort, though it was still difficult." He snatched the metal shard, again, placing the tip of it in the fire and tearing off a piece of his already torn and tattered sleeve. Faiyte watched curiously, but didn't ask. She looked to his arm, at the mass compilation of wires and gears. It looked complicated. Drakkon waited a bit, watching the metal in the fire until it glowed red. He took one of the wires, taking half in his teeth and protecting his fingers with the cloth he'd torn as he lifted the metal shard. He positioned the wire and soldered it together with the same hand, and Faiyte smiled slightly.

"Do you need me to help?" She asked as he let go of the wire, adding a bit of heat here and there to make sure it held.

"I've got it." He insisted, repeating the process with another wire. He watched for a bit, assuring they would hold before looking to Faiyte. "Move back." He said. She did so obediently, and he tried to cast a spell. It seemed to be working at first, but then a large explosion of sparks erupted as a wire snapped, and Drakkon hissed in pain and annoyance.

"You sure you don't need help?" She tried again, and he regarded her.

"Let me see your hands." He said. She cocked her head slightly, but held then up. "Alright, come here." He said, placing the cooled metal back in the fire. Faiyte moved forward, relighting her twig to see. "See that wire, coiled in there?" He asked, pointing. She nodded. "Can you get that?"

"It's not going to electrocute me, is it?" She asked, hesitating.

"Not unless I do so on purpose." At this, she looked to him. "I won't. Just grab it and yank it out." He instructed. She shifted, moving her fingers into the opening with a bit or trepidation. She struggled a bit, but eventually grabbed a hold of it and cautiously pulled it out, looking back to him. "I said yank it out." He said.

"Literally out?" She asked, surprised.

"Out." He nodded. "I need the extra wire, and that one's fairly unimportant for spell casting." With a bit of hesitation, she gripped the wire tightly. "Go ahead." At this, she pulled hard, breaking the wire out. "Alright, hold it with that wire." He said, gesturing to one. She struggled slightly. "Don't worry about the light." He said, taking the twig from her and tossing it back into the fire. He picked up the metal shard, again, as she held the wires against each other. He easily melded them together, then placed the shard back in the fire. He glanced it over again for a moment, then gestured to the wire she held. "Cut that about halfway through."

"Cut it?" Faiyte asked, confused. "With what?" At this, he sighed, taking the wire from her and cutting it on one of the blades attached to the arm. "Oh." She took the wire as Drakkon held it back to her, setting the extra wire aside and retrieving the shard.

"Hold it there." He ordered, and Faiyte connected the wire to the area he'd pointed out. He used the shard to attach it, then repeated the same bonding process with the smaller piece of wire he'd cut off. "Alright, move back again." Seeing the previous reaction, she quickly scooted back, covering herself with his cloak, again, as an added measure of protection. He cast a spell and, this time, it went smoothly. Though casting a frostbolt into the far wall startled Faiyte enough to make her gasp.

"Is it fixed?" She asked, looking from the wall back to Drakkon.

"Well enough for now, anyway." He nodded, snapping the plates back in place. "Where do you live?" He asked, looking to her. She seemed reluctant. "I can make you a portal. Unless you want to stay in this cave until the storm passes." He sighed.

"Darnassus." She answered. He nodded, shifting and handing her back her pouch before starting to cast the spell. She moved, but gave a sharp wince at her still sore ankle. Walking around could prove difficult. As the portal opened, she handed him back his cloak, which he snapped into place. She struggled a bit, and gladly took Drakkon's hand when he offered it. She gave a small 'thank you', and moved for the portal with a short cry and wince as she pressed weight onto the ankle. She swore, steadying herself on her staff. "Listen, Drak, not to be a burden, but..." She began, gesturing to the portal.

"You want me to go into Darnassus?" He asked with a heavy distaste.

"Weren't you going?" She tried. "I mean, you weren't just going to stay here, were you?"

"The storm doesn't bother me. I was planning to make it back to the Vanguard."

"Oh, never mind, then. It's fine." She said, moving away from the wall, again to start for the portal, leaning heavily on her staff. Drakkon gave a sigh, taking her arm and linking it around his shoulders as he walked with her.


	7. To Darnassus and Back

Darnassus, luckily, wasn't as foreboding as Stormwind. The night elves were fairly peaceful. Though, Drakkon's paranoia wore at him as he helped Faiyte through the city, lead by her direction, until they reached her home. He moved, allowing her to rest against the staff, again.

"Thank you." She smiled. "I appreciate it, I-"

"Mum!" A shrill, excited screech rang out suddenly, and Faiyte froze slightly as Drakkon rose a brow. In a quick blur, a young girl ran and leapt into Faiyte's arms eagerly. Drakkon quickly caught Faiyte's staff as it fell, watching in a bit of curiosity. Faiyte winced at the girl's actions, but she quickly turned it into a laugh as she wrapped an arm around the child.

"Hey, honey, what are you doing, out and about?"

"Oh, I just took them down to-" A woman began, and Drakkon turned to see an older Draenei woman accompanied by a young boy. Though, he looked older than the girl. "By the light! What's happened to you!" She asked in concern, reading the pain in Faiyte's face, and the tattered, dirty state of her armor. "Eve, dear, give your mother some air, she's hurt!"

"You are?" The green haired elf asked, quickly pulling away and allowing Faiyte to put her down.

"No, really, it's fine." Faiyte assured with a smile, looking up to the Draenei. "Really, mum, don't upset the children."

"Who's this?" The Draenei demanded, looking to Drakkon.

"This is Drak. He's with the Crusade." Faiyte explained. "He helped get me home."

"I was leaving." Drakkon said, handing Faiyte her staff.

"No you weren't." The Draenei said with a shake of her head. "Come in, I want to know what happened." As she said it, she left no room to argue,taking Drakkon by the arm and leading him inot the house as she opened the door. She made sure he was inside, then turned to help Faiyte in, to sit on the couch. "Evangelin, Cypress, come in here. I don't like you out there by yourselves, and you know it!" She called. The girl, Evangelin, eagerly came in, sitting beside her mother on the couch. The boy, Cypress, moved cautiously around Drakkon to sit at the counter, watching him. Cypress had the same shade of indigo hair as Faiyte, and the usual elven gold eyes. Though, the thing that caught Drakkon's attention was a series of scars. One was over his right brow, two on his right cheek, and a rather large chunk of the boy's ear was missing. What happened to the boy? He couldn't be more than ten years old.

"So, explain." The Draenei said.

"It's nothing." Faiyte huffed. "We were sent to deliver supplies, we flew into a storm, the griffins got startled, and I fell and hurt my ankle. But I healed it, so it's all alright, now."

"Well, points awarded for being particularly vague, this time." She looked back to Drakkon. "Maybe you'll have a better answer for a worried mother?"

"It happened just like she said." He shrugged. "Can I go?" He gestured to the door, and Faiyte gave a chuckle.

"Over bearing, isn't she?" She commented, and the Draenei scowled.

"Pardon me for a mother's concern. You're up there all day every day doing light knows what, and I'm left here to worry about whether or not the scourge has gotten a hold of you! Not to mention having to Tend to Eve and Cy's worries, as well." She boasted. "How did he get involved in all this?" She asked, gesturing to Drakkon.

"He was sent along with me." Faiyte said, and her mother sighed.

"If you healed your ankle why did he have to help you? Why is it still sore?"

"Eve, hun, why don't you go find a pal to snuggle with us? What about Roxie?" Faiyte asked, smiling to her daughter. Evangelin nodded enthusiastically, jumping from the couch and moving down the hall. As she went out of sight, a serious look crossed Faiyte's face as she looked to her mother. "Honestly, mother, you know how she worries. The break was bad, the bone was sticking out and everything. Drak had to snap it back into place and hold it for me to heal it. Soreness and swelling is expected. We had to take refuge in a cave. Drak got attacked by a damn dragon. It dropped him from the air and he had a tree branch stuck through his side. Not to mention his arm was damaged and we had to fix it before we could get out of the blasted cave because the storm was so bad." Faiyte explained quickly. "Was that specific enough fo-Oh, that's not Roxie!" Faiyte's warm smile came back as Evangelin came back into the room with a toy, stuffed cat.

"Roxie's sleeping." Evangelin giggled playfully, curling back into her mother's side.

"So, mum?" Faiyte spoke, looking up.

"Well.." The Draenei breathed, looking to Drakkon. "Stay for supper with us. As gratitude for helping my girl."

"No, it's alright." Drakkon tried.

"Sit." She insisted, pointing to the couch. The woman didn't take no for an answer, did she? He gave a look to Faiyte, and she snickered, gesturing to the couch.

"I'll stay if I can cook." He said, looking back to the Draenei. If he was going to be forced to eat, he would at least prepare the food, himself. The Draenei looked surprised.

"It's.. Hardly a show of appreciation if _you_ cook it."

"Well, it's a compromise." He reasoned. "Faiyte helped me just as much as I helped her. You'll be showing me appreciation by allowing me to eat your food, and I'll show mine by cooking it for us." The Draenei paused, thinking.

"The logic, in this one." She smiled, finally, pointing to him "I like him." She chuckled. "Have at it, then, if you insist. Everything is already set out." With this, she moved to start cleaning the house as Drakkon moved into the kitchen. As he did so, Cypress swiveled, still watching Drakkon as he began to prepare the food.

"Are you a robot?" The boy finally asked, in all seriousness, gaining Drakkon's attention.

"Cy, that's inappropriate." Faiyte sighed.

"Well, look at him!" Cypress exclaimed, looking back to Faiyte in exasperation. "_Someone_ had to ask it! We can't all just sir here and _ignore_ a _robot_!" He looked back to Drakkon, who smirked slightly. "Are you?"

"Cy!" Faiytesaid sternly.

"Don't tell anyone, alright?" Drakkon answered, and Cypress grinned, sitting back and crossing his arms.

"I _knew_ it!"

"No." Faiyte laughed. "He's not a rob- You _aren't_ a robot!" She called.

"Partially." Drakkon shrugged. "Close enough."

"Close enough." Cypress agreed with a nod, and they heard Faiyte's mother chuckle from the other room.

"You're impossibly." Faiyte shook her head, looking to Evangelin. "Go beat up your brother for me. I'm not allowed." She said with a smirk.

"She won't." Cypress called as he stood, sticking his tongue out at Evangelin. She frowned, jumping from the couch and chasing after Cypress ans he bolted off.

"You do realize he's now convinced you're part robot." Faiyte said. "The boy thinks _everyone_ is an undercover _something_. I was apparently a ninja, last year."

"Why a ninja? And, technically, I _am_ part robot." Drakkon waved his mechanical claw for emphasis.

"A ninja because my son is a spaz." Faiyte said. "I was able to dodge a pillow he threw at me with, and I quote, superhuman, unexplainable and impossible speed." She laughed. "He's still convinced my mother is a pirate because an incident resulted in her wearing an eye patch for a week."

"Don't forget that poor man at the fair!" Faiyte's mother called.

"Oh, light!" Faiyte's smile widened. "The Darkmoon Fair. One of the torch jugglers set himself on fire, and Cy was certain he was a dragon in human disguise." She struggled to force the words out in her laughing fit. "He actually tried to prevent the man from being _saved_ because he said a fire dragon dies if you douse it!" The children loudly interrupted the reminiscing, as they rushed into the room. Cypress leapt over furniture agilely, running from a distressed Evangelin, who was wailing something about 'Roxie'. Faiyte made a grab for him, but he twisted mid-air, changing direction mid jump and causing Drakkon to raise a brow in amusement.

"Grab that from him!" Faiyte called as Cypress bolted into the kitchen, clearing the counter.

"No fair! You can't ask the robot to help!" Cypress called, doing a quick tuck and roll as Drakkon tried to snatch the item he held. Evangelin was in near tears.

"Cy! Give it back!" Faiyte scolded. He ignored it, running back out of the kitchen just as Evangelin came into it. In fact, he gave a tall jump over her, kicking off the wall above his sister's head to spring himself into another direction.

"Only if you can catch me!" He taunted. Drakkon moved, casting a deathgrip on the item that tore it from Cypress's grasp. Cypress stopped dead, looking to his empty hands in shock. A small doll. That was the fuss.

"Eve." Drakkon called, gaining the girl's attention as he held it out. She smiled, wiping her eyes and rushing over. As she took it, she hugged it to her chest happily.

"Thank you." She offered, looking up to Drakkon. He gave a nod, smiling back before she returned to the living room to taunt Cypress briefly as she continued back to the hall. He seemed indifferent to it, still looking to his hands.

"Woah." He breathed, looking to Drakkon. "How do I learn how to do that?"

"You don't." Faiyte answered quickly. "He's a death knight. Go play." She said. "Nicely!" She called as he left the room.

"_He's_ the one with unbelievable speed." Drakkon said. "That boy is destined to be a rogue."

"That's what I keep saying." Faiyte's mother said as she came into the living room, briefly glancing over the counter to check Drakkon's progress before retrieving the broom. "Faiyte won't listen to me." At this, he glanced to the night elf. She was watching the floor, a rather grim, somewhat angry look to her.

"Why is that bad?" He asked, looking back to the Draenei.

"Their father is a rogue." She said. "She doesn't want him to be like his father."

"We aren't talking about him, mother." Faiyte said.

"I wasn't going to, dear." She assured, looking to her daughter. "That was all." It was easy enough to tell the subject was meant to be dropped, there, and the Draenei moved from the room.

"I didn't mean any harm in it." Drakkon said, earning Faiyte's attention. "It was just a guess. It could mean he might be a hunter or a druid, too. I just voiced the most obvious opinion." He said, and she gave a weak smile.

"It's fine." She said. "You didn't know. How's dinner coming along?" She changed the subject quickly, and Drakkon knew, at that point, to let it go.

"Almost done." He said.

"You really didn't have to do this. My mother is a good cook, I assure you."

"I'm sure she is." He nodded. "I just don't trust anyone with my food."

"What, you think she would poison you?" Faiyte chuckled. "I promise my mother would never do that."

"It's nothing personal." He said. "I don't even let _my_ mother cook my food, if that helps."

"You have a mother?" Faiyte asked, sounding shocked. Drakkon rose a brow to her, pausing a bit.

"Of course I do?" He said, slightly confused. "I don't know if you realize it, but _everyone_ has a mother." At this, she laughed.

"No, Drak, I didn't mean it like that." She said. "I'm just.. I don't know. I didn't expect you to still be associated with your mother, being a death knight and.. Well, the way you are. You don't seem like the type to keep in touch." He had no reply. Perhaps it had become the case, as of recently. "No offense." She added at his silence.

"None taken." He shrugged.

"Can I ask you something?" She asked, causing him to look up briefly.

"You're going to meddle, again, aren't you?"

"Just a bit." She said. "Yesterday, the way you acted... Can I know what that was about?"

"I was just tired." He lied.

"If you don't want to tell me, you don't have to. But, at least say _that_ instead of lying." He looked up to her, again, contemplating her words.

"Again, it's nothing personal. I don't want to tell anyone." At this, she nodded in understanding.

"Alright, then. I won't ask again. Everyone is entitled to their own privacy." She said. "I just hate being lied to."

"Sorry." He offered. "I'm usually around a large collection of people who continue to probe at things until I make something up that they'll believe." Faiyte gave a smile.

"See? That was entirely honest." She nodded.

"This is ready." He said, moving the food from the fire.

"Supper!" Faiyte called out. Drakkon was barely able to finish making a plate before Evangelin and Cypress eagerly bounded into the kitchen, followed by Faiyte's mother, spouting insisting remarks about making their plated for them so they didn't create a mess. Drakkon swerved around them and into the sitting room, stopping to hold the plate of food out to Faiyte, who was attempting to move. She seemed a bit shocked at the gesture, and looked to him in question.

"What was that you said to me? Something about helping you stand on your own, or something of the like?" At this, she smirked, voicing a 'thank you' as she settled back and took the plate. The children sat at the counter with their plates, while Faiyte's mother joined her on the couch. Drakkon, somewhat reluctantly, made his own plate and began to eat with indifference. It was Cypress that initiated the commotion.

"Woah!" He grinned. "The robot can cook!"

"Oh, actually, it's quite spectacular! No offense, but I wasn't expecting it!" Faiyte's mother commented, causing Drakkon to raise a brow, subconsciously looking to his own plate as if to expecting to see a different meal than the rest of them had. It tasted ordinary, to him.

"Honestly.. How does a death knight, who clearly outright hates eating, learn to cook so well?" Faiyte asked, looking to him with a grin. He faltered, a bit baffled. Were they being serious?

"It seems familiar." Faiyte's mother commented. "Where did you learn?" She asked curiously. From Jaimee... He learned to cook while living in Stormwind with Jaimee. The thought completely erased any appetite he had, and he was glad he took such a minimal amount.

"I.. Apprenticed in Stormwind." He said, deciding on the word to keep it as vague as possible.

"Stormwind! That's it!" The Draenei exclaimed. "In Jaimee Darkwing's little restaurant, right?" She grinned, looking to him. Drakkon gave a slight nod. "Oh, she was just fantastic!"

"She was." He agreed.

"She always had the most divine dishes, there. Dear, you would have _loved_ to eat there!" She continued, turning to her daughter. Drakkon, in attempt to flee the situation, quickly forced down the rest of his food as the Draenei boasted about the meals she'd had in Jaimee's restaurant, causing Drakkon's head to spin a bit.

"In the sink, Drak." Faiyte said, gaining his attention. She was watching him curiously, judging his reaction to the conversation. "Your plate." She clarified. He nodded, setting it in the sink before moving from the kitchen.

"You aren't leaving, are you? Oh, I wanted to talk to you more." The Draenei said, gesturing to a chair. "I nearly _lived_ at that restaurant. Jaimee, herself, knew me by name."

"Mum, I'm sure he's got better things to do than sit here reminiscing with you." Faiyte tried to help, but her mother gave a slight sigh.

"Like what? Return to the Crusade to get knocked off another griffin, or be attacked by another dragon? Come, sit." She insisted. Drakkon gave a glance to Faiyte, a silent plea for help.

"Mum, let him leave. He's already cooked us an amazing meal."

"No harm comes from socialization, dear, despite your argument on the matter." Her mother said, giving another gesture to the chair. Drakkon couldn't escape, and he knew it. He moved into the sitting room, taking the seat she assigned him and bracing himself.

"So, then, it _was_ she that taught you, then?" He nodded. "Oh, delightful! How long did you apprentice, there? Perhaps I know you, already?"

"Almost a year." He answered, attempting to compose his mind and push away past memories.

"How long ago was that? When were you there?"

"It's been.." The number shocked him, once he thought about it. "About thirty years ago.." He muttered.

"Thirty years ago... That wasn't too long before the restaurant closed down!" The Draenei said. "When Jaimee moved away.. Such a sad time that was for her customers. Hopefully, though, she moved on to somewhere better." At this, Drakkon visibly flinched, and Faiyte moved.

"So, mum, what have you and the kids been up to, today?" She tried, gaining her mother's attention.

"Oh, that's right! I _was_ going to tell you, earlier, but I was taken off course by your ankle." She said. "We went to visit your uncle, in Stormwind. We'd only just returned when you got back." The Draenei was successfully sidetracked and as she recounted the day's events. Drakkon was somewhat stuck in his thoughts, noticing Faiyte look to him, every now and again. As the children finished eating, Faiyte's mother guided them upstairs to wash and change.

"Drak.." Faiyte snapped him from his daze, and he looked to her in question. "I'm sorry, about her. She's intrusive like that." She said. "If you want to make your escape, I suggest it while she's busy." At this, he gave a nod, rising from the chair and starting for the door. "You take care." She offered.

"You, too." He replied, then quickly left the house as he heard footsteps coming back down the hall.


	8. The Fallen City

There was no better way to know he had been told the truth than by testing the theory, himself. Leaving Darnassus to return to the Crusade was the perfect way in which to check, as well. He could always fly back into Northrend. His front lines wouldn't stop _him_. But, it gave him an opportunity and insight to test the way the Crusade claimed to have gotten in. This was, of course, a portal into Dalaran. Or, rather, to the ruins of the city. So, this is what Drakkon had done. It was both a relief and an annoyance that it worked. A relief that he had been told the truth, and understood it, But an annoyance with the simplicity of it. By this realization, anyone could get into Northrend. He assumed the Crusade had a strict watch on the matter, since no one appeared to be doing so, but the possibility of it was still there.

The rubble of the city, itself, was dangerous. The mage portals seemed to be specified to one certain area. This area was wedged in the large tree of Crystalsong Forest, along with many other broken, heavy pieces of the city caught above and below it. It looked as though, at any given moment, any of the pieces could break through the limbs of the tree and cause a catastrophic domino effect for the others. Even as he appeared on the jagged, cracked and broken piece, he heard more snaps and a creak from the branch at his sudden weight. He stayed still quickly, examining the area. Dragons swarmed overhead, and fights raged below, among the ruins on the ground. Some of his own, fighting the demons, phantoms, and tainted wildlife of the region. It was a true mess. No wonder the city hadn't been recovered, yet.

Drakkon took caution as he maneuvered himself through the suspended pieces and over broken and busted branches to reach the slightly safer side of the tree. Luckily, the vast majority of the dragons in the skies were frostwyrms, and the realization that they were aiding the knights and ghouls below told him they were still on the scourge's side. It was simple enough, from there, to call one down to fly him back into Icecrown. Honestly, it made it a mystery how the Crusade managed to make it out of Crystalsong at all. But, that was a question for another time.

He landed a ways away from the Vanguard, just out of their sight, and continued to walk the remaining distance. He knew having them see him riding in on a frostwyrm could prove problematic, and he didn't want to risk it. The sky was getting darker, and the guards would be switching, soon, anyway. Though it was still too dangerous. As he moved back into the camp and towards the area that had been assigned to him, something caught his ear that made him cringe in slight panic. That couldn't be _Wolfe's_ voice, could it? He almost didn't want to turn to see, but he had to be sure. He grit his teeth as he looked over to see his brother talking to a group of the Crusade with a wide grin spread across his features. He looked proud. What had he done? Drakkon started over quickly, instantly angered.

"Excuse us a moment." Drakkon muttered to the Crusade soldiers, snagging Wolfe's long, elven ear with his claw and yanking it to force the paladin after him. Wolfe hissed in pain, grin falling to a grimace as he quickly followed. Once in a secluded enough area, Drakkon released him. "What are _you_ doing here!" He demanded.

"Well I _was_ looking for _you_!" Wolfe said, rubbing his ear and checking his hand for blood. "But you weren't here. So, I was having a nice, pleasant chat until you decided to try to cut my ear off!"

"Oh, relax, you're fine." Drakkon shot. "Tell me whatever it was you needed to tell me and get out!"

"They've asked me to stay." Wolfe said, proud smirk returning as he crossed his arms. At this, Drakkon twitched slightly, and though struggling greatly to keep from running a sword through the elf's chest.

"What?" He hissed, instead.

"I was talking to.. Oh, what's his name... Thad! Thaddeus Duxar, that's it!" He nodded. "Said I was welcome to join. Why should _you_ be the only one to have fun with this?"

"Fun?" Drakkon scoffed. _"What_ about this seems fun?_"_

"Oh, honestly. You know it's a bit of a rush, fooling these.. Oh goody." Wolfe trailed, looking to the side. Drakkon was interrupted just as he was about to ask

"Drak?" Solara called, as she noticed him, starting over.

"She's too young for you, knock it off. Drakkon commented, shooting a glare to Wolfe, who was watching Solara as though she was some sort of prey.

"Well if she's too young for _me_..." Wolfe started, looking to his brother.

"I wasn't going to try anything. You were." Drakkon huffed.

"Right. Forgot for a moment, there, that you're completely backwards, that way."

"What happened, today? You never came back." Solara spoke as she reached the pair, giving Wolfe a quick nod in greeting.

"How old are you?" Wolfe suddenly asked, earning an exasperated look from Drakkon.

"I'm... Nineteen. Who are you?" She asked, surprised by the random inquiry.

"She's nineteen, Drak, I-"

"No." Drakkon interrupted, turning his gaze back to Solara. "There were complications." He said. "It's taken care of." He added, noting the question in her eyes.

"And.. Ok. So, who's this?"

"Wolfe Men-" He was interrupted by a slight growl of protest from Drakkon. "Wolfman.." Wolfe corrected it. "Wolfe for short." He tried. Solara gave a slow, still inquisitive, nod. "I'm Drak's brother." He said with a smile, attempting to sling an arm around Drakkon's shoulders for emphasis. Drakkon, however, avoided it.

"Don't touch me." He grumbled, and Solara looked to him with a raised brow. "It's true... Unfortunately." He sighed, shooting a glare to Wolfe.

"Oh." Solara nodded, turning back to Wolfe with a hand outstretched. "Nice to meet you, Wolfe. I'm Mystique Solara." Wolfe smirked, taking her hand and lifting it to kiss the back.

"The pleasure's all mine, my dear." He said, making Drakkon scoff.

"Knock it off." He ordered.

"So." Solara started, turning back to Drakkon. "Complications?"

"The storm knocked us off our griffins." He clarified.

"Glad to see you're alright, but.. What about Faiyte?"

"She's fine. She went home." At this, Solara nodded.

"Who's Faiyte?" Wolfe asked.

"Our priest." Solara answered. "Well, it's not like we don't have more than one, but she's here the most often, anyway." Wolfe gave a nod in understanding. "Sorry, was I interrupting?" She asked, after noting Drakkon's stress.

"Not at all." Wolfe tried.

"Yes." Drakkon said, bluntly, looking from Wolfe to Solara. She seemed immune to the callousness of the answer, and smiled with a nod.

"Alright. My apologies. I'll let Mortecai know what happened so he doesn't come around asking later." She said, giving the two a nod in departure before leaving them along.

"That was rude." Wolfe muttered.

"It's fine." Drakkon said. _"What_ did you have to come here to tell me?_"_

_ "_ Well, really, mum just wanted me to come make sure you were alright. Oh, and we've heightened security on the citadel." He said, lowering his voice and glancing around a bit. "It should stay fairly safe, for a while." Drakkon nodded, but didn't reply. "You _are_ allowed back there, you know. Things have cooled down."

"And why did Duxar ask you to stay? Why was no one concerned when you came here?"

"Well, I based my story off what you said, in the council, room. About the portals into Dalaran ruins and all. I said you were my brother and I heard they recruited you, here, and I needed to talk to you about important family issues."

"And.. They just asked you to stay?" Drakkon seemed skeptical.

"It's a paladin thing." Wolfe said. "We're trustworthy, Drak."

"If you blow our cover and get us both killed-"

"What makes you think I would do that?" Wolfe asked, acting a bit offended. Drakkon paused with a sigh.

"Because I _know_ you." He said. "For example, you nearly told Solara your real name." At this, he became a bit more tense. "Who else have you talked to? What did you tell Duxar?"

"I haven't said anything incriminating to anyone... Been introducing myself as Wolfe, nothing else, other than saying you were my brother." He took a moment, then gestured to Drakkon's arm. "What happened to you?" He asked, noting the claw marks.

"The dragonflight happened to me." He muttered. "One of them, anyhow." That reminded him of the need to properly repair it, and he started off, calling over his shoulder for Wolfe to behave himself, as he went.

The work on his arm lasted him through the night, and even into the morning. The point of it was that he'd gotten it successfully repaired. He was concerned when he hadn't seen Wolfe since their talk, automatically assuming he'd done something entirely foolish, as he was prone to do. Though, no one appeared to know anything they shouldn't. It wasn't long until the entire settlement was bustling and busy, as the somewhat more permanent members woke. Wolfe, after a while of socializing, wandered his way over to Drakkon.

"They're awfully polite, here, aren't they?" He chuckled. "They aren't all that bad."

"This is exactly why you shouldn't be here." Drakkon muttered, looking up from his work. Once his claw had been repaired, he had begun re-making the potions he had lost. "Don't get too attached to these people. I still plan to destroy this camp, and any others." At this, he returned focus to his potions, and Wolfe sighed.

"Why do you have to be so dismal, constantly? Look at the bright side, they're dwindling the numbers in Northrend that want to kill you, at least."

_"They_ want to kill me, Wolfe._" _Drakkon said pointedly. "It hardly seems beneficial to keep them around."

"Have you even considered making peace with them?" Wolfe suggested, and Drakkon let out a huff of sarcastic laughter.

"Do you think about the things you say? Or do you just let the words spill out as soon as they manifest?"

"Drak?" Faiyte's voice caused him to look up, again, and Wolfe turned with a raised brow to watch her come over.

"What?" Drakkon asked, continuing to work.

"I thought I should check in, after everything that happened." She said, leaning against the table and lifting a potion to examine it, a bit.

"Don't worry about it. How's the ankle?"

"Much better, sonce I woke up. I can at least walk on it, now."

"Who're you?" Wolfe spoke up.

"Who are _you_?" Faiyte retaliated, setting the potion back in it's place and looking over to the blood elf.

"Wolfe." He offered.

"Faiyte." She said with a nod.

"Oh, _you're _Faiyte." Wolfe smiled, and Faiyte's attention immediately shifted back to Drakkon.

"What have you told him?" She asked, sounding slightly concerned.

"Nothing. Solara mentioned you." Drakkon announced.

"What's with the hood?" Wolfe asked suddenly. "Is there something wrong with you?" At this, both Drakkon and Faiyte looked to Wolfe.

"This is exactly what I mean." Drakkon commented. "_Think_ before you talk, idiot."

"What? It's a valid question." Wolfe defended, looking to Faiyte for an answer.

"Yes, I'm actually completely hideous. It tends to be a distraction, so I've learned to hide my face." She said simply, looking back to Drakkon and continuing as though everything was fine. "You seemed upset about it and I just.. My mother doesn't exactly understand boundaries."

"Like I said, it's fine." Drakkon insisted.

"What happened?" Wolfe asked, and Faiyte gave him a quick glance.

"Who _is_ this guy? I haven't seen him in the Crusade."

"This is my imbecile of a brother." Drakkon muttered, and Faiyte gave Wolfe another look.

"He's a blood elf." She said, a bit argumentative.

"Our mother is a blood elf." Wolfe said.

"And.. I take it that means your father is human?"

"More or less." Wolfe nodded.

"I see..."

"It's complicated, from the outside looking in." Wolfe gave a shrug.

"I'd imagine.." She looked between the two again, for a small while. "Alright. I suppose I can see some resemblance."

"Oh, don't be like that!" Wolfe huffed. _"I'm_ handsome, don't say I look like him!_"_ At this, Faiyte looked back to Drakkon.

"That didn't offend you?" She asked, noting his indifference.

"I've dealt with it for years. It's nothing out of the ordinary." He shrugged. "Take some time, get to know him. You'll find out just hot full of himself he is." At this, she gave a slight smirk.

"You're just jealous." Wolfe taunted.

"Not in the slightest." Drakkon argued, finishing the last of his potions and setting them aside. "There is no reason to be jealous of a complete idiot."

"Alright." Faiyte chuckled. "You've convinced me. You're brothers." At this, both Drakkon and Wolfe looked to her. "I've got to go. The Crusade is having another discussion about Dalaran and I want to be there. I just wanted to come make sure everything was alright." She said, giving them a nod in departure before taking her leave.

"So, what _did_ happen?" Wolfe tried.

"Why does it matter?" Drakkon asked.

"Curiosity." He shrugged. "You dissappeared, yesterday, say you got knocked off your griffin to the mage, then tell me you got attacked by a dragon.. Then the priest comes in saying something about her mother and you imply something happened to her ankle.. And you expect me not to ask questions?"

"You know me well enough to know I won't answer them." Drakkon said pointedly.

"I'll find out, eventually." Wolfe said, determined. "So, what are you planning to do about Dalaran?" He asked, noticing a few others as they followed Faiyte's path into one of the larger buildings. "Do they really want it restored that badly?"

"Apparently." Drakkon nodded. "There's nothing to worry about. I've been to the ruins, our forces are strong enough to prevent them from doing anything."

"When were you there?" Wolfe looked back to his brother, raising a brow.

"Last night. I tested the theory of porting into the ruins to get back into Northrend."

"To get _back_ into Northrend?" Wolfe repeated. "Where were you?"

"Again, not answering your questions." Drakkon said. "The city is too damaged from the fall, and there's too many of ours, there, for them to take any action."

"I'm going to go listen in, just in case." Wolfe announced, but he didn't move, as if waiting for Drakkon to protest. Noticing this, Drakkon gestured to the building.

"Go ahead." He said. "It's the first _good_ idea you've had in a while." Wolfe seemed surprised at the agreement, and gave a nod as he started off. As long as he didn't say anything foolish, during the discussion, Drakkon saw no harm in it. Upon this thought, came a bit of regret. It was in Wolfe's nature to say foolish things. Though, it seemed too hypocritical to stop him, at that point. After the way the council meeting at the Citadel had gone.

_~Nothing could go worse than that fiasco.~_ Kil'sha's voice chuckled, and Drakkon growled, downing one of the potions he'd just finished and stashing another away, on his person. _~You realize, eventually, those potions will cease to work. You'll build up an immunity to them. But, of course, you know that's already started, don't you?~_ Drakkon ran a hand over his face, feeling as though he'd like to yell out in anger. Kil'sha _was_ right, which was the most upsetting part. ~_You're needing them more often, am I right? In stronger doses? I can't imagine what it must feel like to be tired all the time. Depriving yourself of a full night's rest for more than forty years straight. And the past twelve without so much as a five minute nap._~ Kil'sha continued. ~_What if I agreed to let you sleep for an hour, uninterrupted?_~ He suggested.

"As if I would believe you." Drakkon muttered.

_~Oh, Drakkonus, that hurts. Why don't you trust me?~ _He cackled. _~What have I ever done to you?~ _The laughing became more hysterical, and Drakkon sighed heavily. He needed to figure out how to deal with this particular situation. Kil'sha's haunting voice was becoming quite the nuisance. He drank another potion, then moved to his usual perch atop the tall wall surrounding the Vanguard to think. His eyes found the looming silhouette of the citadel in the distance. He hoped the specks he saw flying around it were frostwyrms of their own, and not the dragonflight.

_~Go back for a little visit, boy. I'm sure they'd be glad to see you.~ _Kil'sha taunted, and Drakkon looked away. As if the sight of the citadel was provoking it. _~Do you think Wolfe was telling the truth? That you're actually welcome back there? I can't imagine it, after your mishap. How delicious would it be if your own father was using it as a trap?~ _He laughed. _~Lure you back to the citadel so the others could do you in and get rid of you? It certainly would be better for everyone else, wouldn't it?~_

"Only in your twisted logic would that happen." Drakkon retorted.

_~Are you sure of that? Remember, boy, I'm in your head. I know your true thoughts, even if you try not to voice them.~_

"You know _nothing_ about me." Drakkon argued.

~_I know _everything_ about you._~He said, drawing out the word. _~Everything you keep hidden. All your thoughts, wants.. Your _fears_.~_ He chuckled. _~You can't hide _anything_ from me, now. I know you would rather risk your own life, staying here, than go back to the citadel to face everyone you let down. I know you're afraid of what else could go wrong. I know you don't really think Wolfe's boasts about peace are stupid. Because I _know_ you want to believe it. That someday it doesn't have to be as difficult as it is, right now.~_ Kil'sha listed. _~I know your best and worst memories, and I could pull then to the surface at my leisure.~_ As he said it, brief flashes of the citadel's dungeons, Kil'sha with Nyteshayde at his feet, and the pain he caused her, raced through his mind with relentless vividness. Drakkon flinched. _~I'm fairly sure I could allow you in on some of _my_ memories, as well. Do you ever wonder what happened _before_ you came down there?~ _The next few flashes of memory weren't him, they were Kil'sha's. At the sight of it, Drakkon couldn't help the angered snarl that escaped him.

"Drak, you alright?" He hadn't even noticed Faiyte come onto the wall with him. He gave an attempt to speak, but the visions wouldn't stop, and Kil'sha's evil laughter racked his mind. Drakkon moved quickly as he remembered something. He snatched Faiyte's hand, who froze slightly at the action. Again, the contact caused Kil'sha to roar in pain, and the sights in his head finally ceased. It was calm, again. "Drak?" Faiyte asked quietly, confused, as Drakkon released her hand and rested back against the pillar, struggling to compose himself and maintain whatever shred of sanity he had left.

"Trust me, I'd explain if I could." He offered, then cleared his throat. He sounded shaken. He _was_. But he certainly didn't want to sound like it.

"You.." She faltered, shifting herself to sit and watch him curiously. "Why _can't_ you? There's clearly something going on with you."

"I don't want to talk about it." He said.

"If you ever _do_.." She offered.

"I think I liked it better when you hated me." He said, looking to her. She smirked.

"Who ever said I stopped hating you?" She chuckled.

"Is the meeting over, already?" He asked.

"It's been an hour." She announced. "Everyone said what they needed to say."

"And?"

"I think I knew from the start it wasn't going to get anywhere. It never does.. I mean, I've been on every scouting mission to Crystalsong forest. The situation, there, only ever gets worse." Her smile faltered. "A girl can hope." She shrugged, looking away, to the skies. To where Dalaran City used to float.

"Why does it matter?" He asked. "If it can still be used to get into Northrend." He had to try, quite hard, in fact, to make it sound like he thought that was a good thing.

"It's the principle pf it." She replied, still watching the empty space in the sky for a moment, before looking back to Drakkon. "Dalaran was a treasure to everyone. It was a place that had everything you could need, where everyone got along. It was a place of peace and structure and understanding.." She trailed, looking back to it. "I lived there, for a while. I was practically raised, there." That was an uncharacteristically personal bit of information. "I'm just grateful my mother and I weren't there when it fell. My father wasn't as lucky, though."

"I'm sorry." He was a bit surprised at himself, for the genuine statement. It was, after all, _his_ fault. She looked over to him, offering a smile.

"Thank you. It was twelve years ago, and I really just barely knew him, but he was still my father." She shrugged, looking down into the camp. "He was in the Crusade. I figured, maybe I could finally do something that would have made him proud by joining it, myself. It's a pity, that I didn't quite realize how important he was to me until I lost him. If i'd realized that sooner, I might have tried harder, or actually listened to him about things I should have done. It could have prevented a lot of grief in, in my life, if I had. He was right about everything, all along." She seemed, all at once, to realize what she was saying, and who she was saying it to, looking to Drakkon in a bit of shock. "I'm sorry.." She said. "It's.. Because of Dalaran. I didn't mean to go on like that." She didn't react the way Drakkon had expected. If it were him, he would have been angry at letting out all that personal information. Faiyte's apology seemed solely based on her own thoughts that listening to her was an annoyance to him.

"It's alright." He assured, and she seemed a bit relieved.

"You aren't entirely terrible, after all. You know that?" She smiled.

"See, it's statements like those that give the impression you've stopped hating me." He announced.

"Don't flatter yourself. I still hate you." She chuckled. "Your blood elf brother was looking for you, by the way. That's _why_ I came up here." He gave a nod, then jumped from the ledge without another word.

"What did you want?" Drakkon asked, approaching Wolfe. The paladin gave a glance around, making sure they were secluded enough.

"They decided it was too dangerous. They said it's a lost cause." He announced with a smile. Drakkon gave a nod, glancing back to the wall where Faiyte still sat.

"The Crusade trusts you, right? Because you're a paladin?" He asked, watching the priest a bit before looking back to Wolfe. He nodded. "And they'll let you go off on your own, if you want? Without an escort?" Another nod. "Go pull our forces out of Crystalsong. Tell them to keep away from now on."

"What? But-" Wolfe began.

"Don't argue with me. It's an order." Drakkon said. Wolfe hesitated, then gave a slight nod before walking off. Drakkon waited, remaining at his usual station, until he noticed Wolfe return. He glanced around a bit before he spotted Drakkon and started over.

"Alright, it's done. I told them that Crystalsong is secure enough and doesn't need further guarding. Told them to help guard the citadel."

"Go convince Duxar to send out another scouting mission." Drakkon instructed.

"You do _realize_ what you're doing, right? They'll raise Dalaran, again." Wolfe tried.

"That would be the point of it." Drakkon nodded.

"Well, if you're trying to be the good guy, here, why don't you have them re-scout the area."

"I'm _not_ trying to be the good guy. And they're more apt to listen to you than me."

"So... If you aren't trying to be the good guy..." Wolfe was clearly confused. "What, do you plan to have them raise the city, again, get everyone there, then take it down again?" He guessed, and Drakkon sighed.

"No, Wolfe, just do as I say." He insisted, waving him off.


	9. A Restoration

Any and all available personnel were hence forth ordered to stop their previous assignments to assist with the reconstruction of Dalaran City. It was a painstakingly monotonous procedure. They had to round up all the fallen pieces, keep guard at all times around the region's border, and strategically dwindle the number of hostile inhabitants to assure they could continue, uninterrupted. Drakkon couldn't have been more relieved when they neared completion, and less participants were needed. He was one of the first to step aside and return to the Vanguard. From that point, the progress went smoothly and, as they worked with the Kirin'Tor to get the City airborne, again, the Crusade rejoiced in their victory.

"I still don't get it." Wolfe spoke up, as he and Drakkon watched the Vanguard's soldiers celebrate.

"I'm not surprised. You don't understand anything." Drakkon mocked, and Wolfe frowned.

"As if _anyone_ who knows you would stand a chance at understanding this." Wolfe defended. "You realize you've opened up Northrend, again? The forces of Azeroth, all the adventurers.. They'll return, now." Wolfe said, and Drakkon gave a nod. Wolfe sighed. "Twelve years ago this was the one specific thing you set out to stop. It was so damn important to you that you ended up taking down the entire scourge kingdom, with it. What's changed?"

"If I offer a valid, indisputable argument, will you stop your whining?" Drakkon asked, looking to Wolfe. He took a moment, then nodded. "It will take the focus off of me, for a while. Long enough that I could come up with a plan to rectify the issues I'm stuck with and get things back on track." He said. "If the rest of Azeroth is allowed back into Northrend, they will inevitably cause problems for the remaining races of the continent and distract them. Perhaps, if I'm lucky enough, it might even force them to see my point."

"What happened to your argument that the outsiders share the same desire to kill you?"

"I don't need to worry about that immediately. The first thing they will try to do is reclaim their old bases, throughout Northrend. That will lead to them fighting against the other races, before they start worrying about _me_."

"And this is the point you're going to attempt to get through to our father?" Wolfe asked. "When you go back to the citadel to-"

"I'm not going back." Drakkon announced, causing Wolfe to immediately halt in his words.

"What?" Wolfe rose a brow, astonished. "Ever?"

"Not immediately." Drakkon muttered. "You can go back and relay what I've said just as easily." He shrugged.

"I did _tell_ you you're welcome back there, again.." Wolfe tried, acting like Drakkon may not have heard this, the first time around. Drakkon nodded.

"Indeed, you did."

"So.. Why won't you?" Wolfe asked slowly, a bit of concern growing in his voice.

"I'm sure things are under control." Drakkon cast a glance back over the mountains, toward the citadel. "Head back and explain the situation for me." He said, returning his gaze back to the Crusaders as Wolfe obediently slipped away. They were talking excitedly, seemingly planning something. It would have been a lie to say it wasn't unsettling to Drakkon. They had just gotten their city back, nothing being planned out could be a positive thing for him.

"Solara." He called to the red headed elf as she passed, catching her attention. "What's going on?" He asked, nodding towards the talkative collaboration of Crusade soldiers she'd come from.

"Oh, just an excited rally." She smiled, glancing back briefly before approaching him. "The Kirin'Tor are giving their final once over at Dalaran before they allow it to be operational again. The Crusade leaders are talking about a celebration, of sorts, once it's cleared inspection."

"A celebration?" He repeated. That was all? Solara nodded.

"Like a party." She shrugged. "Mainly for the Crusade. A way to relax and have some fun, after all the hard work." She paused. "They expect the Kirin'Tor's Verdict, tonight. So, they're planning the event for tomorrow night, before they completely open up the city, again." She explained. "You're going, right?"

"Why would I?" He couldn't help the distaste from coming into the statement. Though, she didn't seen effected by it. A gathering of Crusade members in a city he's once sought to destroy didn't sound like a wise situation to willingly place himself in.

"Because you're one of us, now." She answered. "It'll be fun." She added, looking back to him. He failed to see the fun in it. "You should go, because I will make it a point to continue bothering you until you agree." She said. _This_ was a very effective argument. The elf knew him better than he thought. He regarded her a moment, a bit shocked at her statement. She smirked at his reaction, looking victorious.

"I'll take it into consideration." He finally answered, and she gave a nod. It was clear she had gotten through to him.

"It's going to be somewhat formal. You'll have to do something about all this." She commented, lifting the end of his torn and tattered sleeve. "If you don't have anything, I'm sure I could make something." She suggested. He already knew she was a tailor. She had attempted, more than once, to get him to let her refine said ragged armor. To this, he gave a short, reluctant shrug.

"If you must." He muttered, and she gave a nod and smile, finally moving away to return to the heart of the settlement. "Lovely." He grumbled, moving away from his station to sit atop the Vanguard's wall. He never seemed to be bothered, while he was up there. Of course, he didn't account for the possibility of someone already being there.

"What are you doing up here?" He asked, causing Faiyte to look over.

"This was _my_ spot, before you came along." She announced pointedly. "Consider yourself lucky I decided to share it." She added as he sat, leaning back against the pillar. "It doesn't make any sense." She commented suddenly, turning her gaze to the newly risen city in the distance.

"What?" He rose a brow, following her gaze.

"I saw the state of Crystalsong, myself. It was swarming with scourge filth. Then, they were just gone. It seems.. Oddly suspicious. Almost as though they made it a point to let the Crusade raise it, again. It was far too easy.."

"Does it matter?"

"Considering they're the reason it was destroyed in the first place?" She looked back to him. "I think it rouses concern. Of course, I seem to be the only one who thinks it." She turned her attention to the Vanguard, watching those below. "They all see it as a victory. I see it as a trap."

"What if it isn't?" He asked.

"If it isn't.." She faltered. "Then the Lich King is insane." He chuckled slightly at the statement, and she looked to him. "Well, it's the only explanation. Why else would he have deliberately allowed this to happen? After making it a point to run the rest of Azeroth from Nothrend, and take protective measures to _keep_ them out.. "

"I wasn't trying to argue the statement." He shrugged. "It just seems like the conclusion of him being insane would have been reached long before this."

"Well, it's definitely the cherry on the sundae, so to speak." She muttered.

"You _wanted_ Dalaran raised, again." He accused. "You can't just pick it apart, now. Be happy."

"I am." She insisted. "Just.. Cautiously so." She paused, giving a look back to the city. "It's peculiar. But, I am glad, as long as it doesn't turn out to be a trap. What do _you_ think about it? You're almost as un-trusting as I am." She looked to him, and he raised a brow.

"Almost? You have no idea..." He said. "What do I think about Dalaran being raised, again?"

"About the scourge allowing it to happen." She corrected. "Which is clearly the case. They could have stopped it, at any point, but they didn't even try." How was he supposed to answer that?

"Maybe they realized it was a mistake, to destroy it in the first place." He decided upon the answer, after a while of thought.

"A mistake?" She chuckled. "Your view on the way things work is a tad misdirected, isn't it?" He shrugged. She glanced him over, then gestured to his claw. "That's still working alright, then?"

"After proper repairs." He nodded. She moved, scooting down the wall to sit on the ledge beside him. She hesitated slightly, then took hold of the claw, lifting it to examine it a bit. He watched curiously as she toyed with the hinges and attachments.

"Can you feel through this thing?" She asked, tapping on one of the metal plates.

"It's mechanical. It doesn't have nerve endings." He commented, and she gave a slight nod.

"How does this absurd contraption work, anyway?" She asked, continuing to cautiously attempt to figure it out. She looked a bit timid about it, and Drakkon smirked. "I mean, do you have a concealed control? Or can you actually operate it with your mind? It makes no logical sense.." She huffed, clearly confused by it. As he watched her peer at it, he couldn't help himself. In a sudden movement, he splayed the fingers of the claw, creating a loud _shing_ that made Faiyte call out in surprise and release him to move backwards. He'd meant it as a harmless prank until, in her panic, she slipped over the edge of the wall. His snickering ceased as he cursed, quickly moving to snatch her wrist. She clung to him, attempting to make her way back onto the ledge.

"You're such an asshole!" She called, focused on the ground, a ways below, as he tugged her back onto the wall. As she returned to it, she refused to allow her legs to dangle, over the edge, as she previously had, still clinging to Drakkon's hand as she struggled to calm herself.

"You alright?" He asked, after a pause.

"You're such an asshole.." She repeated in a huff, returning his smirk.

"Oh, come on, it was _kind of_ funny." He said. "If I was really an asshole I'd have just let you fall." She finally looked up from the ground to focus on him.

"I hate you, sometimes." She said, though a smile crept onto her face as she did.

"So now it's only _sometimes_?" He commented as she finally released him, and he returned to leaning back against the pillar. To this, she did her best to attempt a stern look, pointing to him, but not saying anything.

"When you're being a jerk." She finally said. "Which is nearly always, anyway."

"Nice save." He grinned.

"Drak!" Wolfe's call from below caused them both to look down. "I need to talk to you." At this, Drakkon gave a look back to Faiyte. She knowingly moved, though much more cautiously, to give him room to leap down. As he reached Wolfe, the paladin glanced up to Faiyte before leading his brother away a bit. "I've been told to tell you to stop making rash, spontaneous decisions. " Wolfe announced. "And that you should have returned to discuss it, before taking any action."

"So, I take down Dalaran, and it was a foolish decision. And I allow it to be raised, again, but it's still a foolish decision?" Drakkon grumbled.

"I think it's more of the fact you keep doing all these things without consulting anyone." Wolfe clarified. "Mum's glad to know you're ok." He mentioned, as though this would make everything better. It didn't.

"And what did they have to say about _you_ staying here?" At this, Wolfe gave a shrug.

"They know I can defend myself."

"And _I_ can't?"

"You're unstable." Wolfe said with a chuckle. "And after recent behavior, they thing _you're_ the one that speaks without thinking and should, by rights, be watched."

"By _you_!"

"This is much more enjoyable than I thought it would be." He snickered. _"Yes_ by me. I was told to make sure you don't fly off the hinges and get yourself killed._" _At this, Drakkon scowled. "It isn't my fault you've ruined everything. So.. What's the plan, then?"

"For what?" Drakkon practically growled.

"Dalaran." Wolfe clarified. "What's going to happen?"

"Apparently, the Crusade is having a damn celebration on it, before they open it up, again." As Drakkon said this, Wolfe smiled. "Thought you would enjoy that.." Drakkon muttered. "A completely pointless, useless endeavor.. Seems _right_ down your alley.."


	10. The Queen

Drakkon stayed on the outskirts of the city as much as possible. It was far worse than he had been expecting. It wasn't just the Vanguard soldiers, or even the entire population of Crusade in Northrend. It was all of them. It seemed like only a matter of time before _one_ of them _had_ to realize who he really was. Though Solara was the initial reason he'd been forced into the floating city, Wolfe was keeping him there. The paladin assured everything would be fine, and that they should be there to keep an eye on what was going on. If the entire Crusade had come together, he'd argued, they were bound to talk about courses of action or plans regarding Northrend. He had a valid point, but that certainly didn't make anything more comfortable. And, since Drakkon was naturally paranoid, it only made it that much worse that he didn't have his armor or weapon with him. His claw could only go so far, and certainly wouldn't hold up against the entire Crusade army.

"Honestly, it's rather obvious you'd like nothing more than to jump off the edge of the city, right now." Wolfe commented as he finished his wandering about Dalaran and stopped next to his brother.

"Can you blame me?" Drakkon grumbled.

"Just relax, it's a party. Nothing malicious is going to happen." Wolfe assured. "Here." He held out a drink, which Drakkon hesitantly took, as though it must be filled with poison.

"I shouldn't be here."

"Right. You should be back at the cita-"

"Hey!" Drakkon interrupted, glaring over to the blood elf. "There are far too many people around for you to be talking that loud."

"There's really no reason to panic, Drak. Everything will be fine."

"No reason?" Drakkon huffed. "There's _plenty_ of a reason! You don't see anything about this situation that rouses any form of concern?" He demanded. He had lost Wolfe, however. Wolfe's attention was focused on a night elf woman who had, as Drakkon spoke, walked up and stolen the untouched drink he held, chugging it down. "And what the hell is this?" Drakkon asked haughtily, finally addressing the situation as he gestured to her.

"Perfection." Wolfe commented. Of course, the statement was justified. The blue haired night elf was, indeed, stunning. She finished the drink quickly, focusing her golden eyes on Drakkon in a slight glare.

"I don't even want to hear a damn word of complaint from you! I needed that a _lot_ more than you did, Drak! Do you _see_ what they've got me wearing!" She hissed in a draeneic accent as she gestured to the tight black dress she wore in a bit of disgust.

"Faiyte!" Wolfe and Drakkon had asked it in unison, each stunned.

"Who the hell else would I be?" She muttered, holding up the empty cup, which Drakkon cautiously took back as though it were coated in a dangerous, foreign substance, holding it slightly away from himself. "I'm sorry.." Faiyte muttered, lifting a hand to massage her temple. "I just.. I really didn't want to come to this damn thing. I'm so stressed.."

"So _that's_ what you were hiding under that cloak of yours?" Wolfe asked, a wild smirk crawling onto his face. "You know, I could probably find a way to relax yo-" Wolfe started, reaching out a hand and attempting to rest it on the small of her back. Faitye spun, suddenly, smacking his hand away and pointing to him threateningly.

"I already made a vow to myself that I would slaughter the next man that tried to touch me, Wolfe!" She growled. "_Back off!_"

"Yes, ma'am." Wolfe gave a nod, eyes widening a bit in shock. There was a call of her name from within the crowd, and she snarled a bit under her breath as she glanced towards it. She gave one last look back to Wolfe, then started off without another word. "Damn." Wolfe's smirk returned as he watched her leave. "All that and feisty, too." He snickered. "Did you know about this?" He asked, glancing over to Drakkon. He gave a slight shake of his head, then quickly held out the cup to Wolfe rather insistently. Wolfe took it, looking to the cup, then back to his brother with a raised brow. "Are you alright?" He nodded. "Then why aren't you talking?" Wolfe asked, cocking his head a bit. Then, he smiled. "Oh, you _like_ her, don't you?" At this, Drakkon's hard scowl came back instantly.

"Of course not. I don't like anyone." He insisted. "Don't be an idiot."

"Alright, so.. If you don't like her, you won't mind if I.." He trailed, then gestured after the path Faiyte had taken.

"Go ahead. It doesn't look like you'll have much luck, though." Drakkon muttered.

"Oh, come on. You know me." Wolfe laughed. "I'll find a way." He said proudly, looking back into the crowd. He gave a glance back to Drakkon, then took a step forward. He was stopped, however, by a very familiar voice.

"Wolfe!" A woman called. At recognizing the voice, before even seeing her, he quickly looked back to Drakkon in shock. He was gone, however. Seemingly disappeared. He didn't have time to look. "Oh, light, it _is_ you!" She continued, approaching him. Her raven hair was pulled back in a bun, and she wore a very regal looking long dress of white and gold.

"Hello, Devon." Wolfe gave an attempt at a friendly smile, but it came off rather forced and weak. What was he going to say?

"What the hell are you doing, here?" She asked, glancing around a bit. Wolfe faltered.

"I've joined the Crusade." It was all he could think to say, and she rose a skeptical brow. She paused a moment, then gestured for him to follow as she started away. She ducked into one of the unoccupied buildings, and Wolfe cautiously followed, glad when she didn't shut the door, after them.

"What's really going on?" She asked. "Why are you really here? Are you alone? Is this some sort of trap."

"It's not a trap." Wolfe assured. "I really did join the crusade. You can ask Thaddeus Duxar, himself. He swore me in not too long ago."

"What happened?" Devon asked, watching him carefully for lies. Wolfe looked back to the door for a moment, assuring no one was outside the building listening.

"I found the Crusade in the old Vanguard. I left the citadel to join them, because I was sick of all the... Chaos." He decided on the word after a moment. "Things have gotten far too bad, in the scourge. It needs to be stopped." He attempted to sound as convincing as possible. He gave another glance around. He was sure Drakkon was lurking somewhere, watching.

"And.. You're alone?" She asked, and he gave a slight nod, finally looking back to her. Though, his eyes searched the building behind her. "Then why do you keep looking around?" At this. She gave a glance around, herself. "Who's here with you?" The question was a demand. She knew. As she spoke, there was a pain in the back of Wolfe's head, as he felt like he was struck by something from behind. He snarled, bringing a hand to the back of his head as Devon quickly looked back to him.

"No one else is here." He insisted.

"What-" She began, gesturing to the grimace on his face, and his stance with his hand on the back of his head.

"Oh, I've just had a headache all day." He gave a slight shrug. "Not much sleep, with all the work getting the city back up."

"Wolfe." She huffed. _"What_ are you hiding?_" _At this, there was a growl of anger, and Drakkon appeared from thin air beside them, causing Devon to gasp loudly and take a few quick steps backwards in surprise.

"You're completely _useless_." Drakkon snarled to Wolfe. "Get out." He ordered.

"Drak, don't hurt-" Wolfe gave an attempt, but the angered glare from Drakkon quickly stopped him. Wolfe gave one last look to Devon, then obediently left the building. Drakkon took hold of the door as he did so, slamming it shut and rounding on Devon.

"If you would just mind your own damn business, you wouldn't find yourself in these sorts of situations." Drakkon shot.

"It _is_ my business." She said, her eyes glancing from Drakkon to his claw intermittently. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same damn question." He snapped. "You aren't part of the Crusade."

"I heard the city was raised again, and I wanted to come see it for myself." She clarified, giving a look to the door. Unfortunately, Drakon was between she and it.

"The Crusade hasn't opened it up again. They just let you come here?"

"They have to." She said. "Why did you let them raise the city, again?"

"What do you mean they have to?" He demanded, ignoring her question.

"I mean they can't stop me." She said, finally focusing on him, directly. "I assume you have some sort of cover going with the Crusade, since you're here?" He didn't answer. "It seems like, if you hurt me, that cover would be blown?"

"Well, it will be whether I kill you, or not, now." He said pointedly. "So why not get the added benefit of getting rid of you?"

"Because if you let me go, I won't say anything." She said, and he rose a brow.

"And I'm supposed to _trust_ you?" He scoffed. "Look how well that worked, last time."

"Just... Why did you let them raise the city, again. Truthfully?" She tried, taking a brave step forward. "If you don't have any ill intent.. Why would I stop you?"

"Why wouldn't you?" He asked, genuinely curious, though he kept his dangerous appearance.

"Because if you're letting the rest Azeroth back into Norhrend, there is nothing for me to be upset with." She said. "So.. Is it a trap? That's all I'm asking."

"No." He said, and she gave a nod.

"Alright." She said. "Now, its up to you. You could easily kill me, right now. I'm unarmed and unguarded.. And you always have that.. Weapon.. With you... But, if you do, they will know it was you simply for the fact that you are the only one here who _does_ have a weapon, other than the guards. And someone out there is bound to notice you come out of this building.. Or, you can let me go, and trust that I won't say anything." Drakkon took a moment, thinking.

"Queen Wrynn?" A call from outside sounded, and Drakkon gave a glance over his shoulder to the door, before looking back to Devon in question. She gave a slight nod.

"Like I said.. My death wouldn't go without an investigation." She said. As the guard outside called again, She looked to the door. "Whatever decision you make, you had better do so quickly." At this, Drakkon, rather reluctantly, stepped aside and gave a slight gesture for the door. Devon nodded with a smile "Good."

"If you're lying, don't think I won't show up an Stormwind to finish this." He said threateningly.

"Of course." She nodded. "But don't think I won't be checking up on you, either." She said, then continued past him and out of the building. Drakkon took a moment, watching out the door after her. He knew from experience she couldn't be trusted. After all, it was _her_ fault the entirety of Northrend collapsed beneath him. And she made the mistake of trusting _him_, after what he'd done. None of it made sense. Tsage wasn't an idiot. If Drakkon wanted to level the Crusade's bases, he could do so faster than they could retaliate. She knew that, so what was the point of allowing things to continue?

"Drak?" Wolfe asked, cautiously moving into the building. "What happened? Is everything alright?"

"She's the Queen of Stormwind, now." This was the only thing Drakkon could manage to say, and he was a bit surprised at himself. There were plenty of other, more pressing things at hand than that.

"I gathered that." Wolfe gave a slight nod, looking toward the door. "From the guards following her back into the crowd.." He looked back to Drakkon. "So, what do we do?"

"Nothing." Drakkon replied, moving for the door. "She isn't going to tell anyone we're in the Crusade."

"Why?" Wolfe looked downright shocked, and quickly tailed after Drakkon.

"If you figure that one out, tell me." Drakkon shrugged. "I'm going back to the Vanguard." He announced, after glancing back toward the crowd.

"If she said she isn't going to do anything, then you don't have to worry." Wolfe tried.

"You're an idiot." Drakkon sighed, and Wolfe frowned in argument. "You can continue trusting whoever you want. Even those who have _proven_ they don't deserve it, if that's what you want to do. But if she's lying, just to keep me in the city, so she can go tell whoever she needs to tell, I do not stand a chance, here. I'm leaving." He said pointedly. "Keep an eye on her." He gestured to the crowd, and Wolfe gave a nod.


	11. The Suggestion

There was no explanation that Drakkon could think of to justify Tsage's decision. She knew just how dangerous the circumstances were bound to become. However curious the situation was, and despite the threat of knowing she could change her mind at any moment, everything had continued as normal, even with her more than frequent visits to check up on the state of the Vanguard. Well, normal may have been the wrong word to use. Dalaran had opened back to the public of Azeroth, and the adventurers were taking full advantage of it. The Crusade, itself, was busier than ever trying to keep up with it all and keep tabs on the who's, what's, where's, and when's of the affairs taking place in Northrend. Camps, towns, and settlements were springing up everywhere, on a consistent incline. Though Drakkon had already anticipated this, he had thought, by then, someone, somewhere along their travels, would recognize him for who he was. With everyone going through the Vanguard at one point or another, it was only a matter of time. Or so he thought. The bright side of the commotion was that the adventurers were more concentrated on assisting in the rebuilding process, rather than being on a set path of destruction to the Citadel.

Wolfe was living it up, of course. Doing everything in his power to be at the center of every plan anyone had. He was doing so just for the glory and attention, Drakkon knew that, but it also meant there wasn't a thing Wolfe didn't know about, and that was useful. Since Drakkon, himself, was doing his best just to stay away and keep his head down, it was beneficial to have someone actively watching for signs of trouble. The thing that had, obviously and unequivocally changed was the way the Crusade was treating Faiyte. Since the celebration in Dalaran City, everything had changed for her. In her own words, she explained it as a sexist reason of the worst kind. It was clear she was right, though. No one seemed to want to send her on missions or have her do anything even slightly straining or dangerous, since they had found out what she truly looked like. She'd explained the hood she wore was to eliminate that conflict. She said they would forget, eventually, as they had before, but it was still a trying time waiting for it. Along with having to deal with the over-protecting nature of the men in the Crusade, there were less favorable things she was having to deal with, as well. Men with the same sort of reaction to her true appearance that Wolfe had shown. It was clear to see it bothering her, too. Her temper was short, she withdrew herself from socializing, and avoided certain individuals all together.

Whether he would admit it or not, Drakkon felt sorry for her. She lived and breathed for the Crusade and their efforts, and they were no longer letting her be a part of what they were doing. For the majority of her days, she sat in the infirmary, operating solely as a healer, being told it was the only safe, yet still helpful, thing for her to do. She didn't thrive on safety. That much became clear quickly. It took a few days of debating and contemplation, before Drakkon suggested she assist him. He was sent out, more often than not, to gather supplies or aid in attack missions against unruly inhabitants of Northrend, and it was a better offer than her being stuck sitting around camp all day. He would rather have sent Wolfe to her, have her go off with him, but he knew where that would lead and Faiyte was already dealing with enough men propositioning her lately. Wolfe, ironically, being the worst of them, anyway.

Having Faiyte tail along with him meant, however, that he had to change the way he did things. Ghouls, abominations, and all manner of scourge forces still wandered Northrend freely. Usually, when out for supplies, he went alone, and was never bothered by them. With Faiyte along, it was much different. She was like bait, drawing them in and creating conflict that couldn't be as easily resolved as simply taking control of the situation. He'd already had one slip up in simply ordering an abomination away, then having to creatively explain his way around how he was able to do so. For the most part, though, he appeared to be safe, as long as no one realized who he was. They didn't, as far as he knew, and it was causing him to grow increasingly curious as to why.

"I'm going to end up killing your brother, you know." Faiyte commented as she came to a stop in front of Drakkon's station. He seemed unaffected by her comment, continuing to work without even glancing up to her. She took a moment, before cocking her head a bit in wonder. "You don't even want to know what he's done?"

"I assume he deserves it." Drakkon shrugged. "What has he done?"

"He's been talking to Duxar, saying they should stop me from leaving the Vanguard at all, other than to go home." She muttered. "And, as far as I know, Duxar is agreeing with him. Has he spoken to you? Tried to keep you from letting me go with you, when you leave?" She asked. Drakkon shook his head no.

"As if that would stop me." He commented, and she smirked slightly.

"Good." She nodded. "Nice to know _someone_ is still treating me like I'm useful."

"I never said anything about you being useful. Actually, you're quite the pain." He commented. "But that doesn't mean you deserve to be cooped up in the Vanguard's limits."

"Well.. insults aside, I'm grateful. You seem to be the only one unaffected by what I look like."

"Should I be? It doesn't make you any less effective as a priest, it doesn't change who you are or how you do things." He muttered. "And, frankly, men like my brother, with that neanderthal like mentality towards women, are something to be frowned upon. Definitely not something I aspire to become. Why they allow themselves to become distracted and obsessed by such simplicity and render themselves incapable of effective action and rational thought is beyond me."

"Simplicity?" Faiyte repeated, turning her attention from watching around the Vanguard to look to Drakkon, who was still immersed in his potion making.

"No offense meant." He added with a slight shrug.

"So.." She began, turning to lean against the table. "Is that supposed to mean you don't find me attractive?"

"You've been walking around hiding your face from everyone from the moment I came here. It seemed like your goal was to prevent anyone from being attracted to you. You can't turn it around now, and act offended."

"That wasn't an answer." She said.

"Does it matter?" He rose a brow, giving a short glance up to her.

"It might." She nodded, watching him continue working indifferently. "I think you and I should have sex." At this, she had his full attention.

"What!" He asked, clearly shocked.

"You heard me."

"You can't be serious."

"Why not? We're both adults. It's merely a suggestion." She shrugged. Drakkon still looked quite baffled, however. "It's not like I'm asking for any sort of long-term commitment. Or, even, any sort of relationship at all. Just sex, no strings and no complications."

"You quite literally have all the men in this base following after you, trying to get your attention for just this purpose." Drakkon finally spoke. "Why choose the _one_ that isn't?"

"That _is_ the reason. I hate being tailed after and I can't stand men constantly bothering me. I don't need to get myself into something where whoever I choose will eventually end up wanting more from it. I don't have to worry about that with you at all. Not only because you're the only one not trying, but because I've known you long enough to see you won't get attached. There is not risk involved, and no hold-ups. You're the only one willing to treat me like I'm still just another woman in the world, and not something to obsess over." She explained. "Added the fact that you have already been to my home, away from here, you know the things I try to keep separate from my life, here, and I can trust you with that information." Drakkon said nothing, only watched her in slight curiosity. "Well?" She asked, after a bit of silence.

"This isn't a good idea." He said simply.

"Actually, it's a great idea." She smirked. "But it's not like I plan to force you into anything. Just.. You know where to find me, if you change your mind." She announced, moving from the table to stand straight, again. After a nod in departure, she started back through the Vanguard, leaving Drakkon at his station to process what, exactly, had just happened. Watching after her, however, caused him to realize Tsage was, yet again, in the Vanguard. Despite everything else going on, he had to talk to her, no matter how unsettling the thought was. With a slight sigh and another glance after Faiyte, he moved from his station to approach Tsage. She seemed a bit intimidated by it, when she noticed. In all her visits to Northrend to check on the situation Drakkon had always made it a point to ignore her.

"We need to talk." He commented, not even breaking his stride as he passed her, knowing she would follow.

"What's this about?" She asked, once they came to a halt in a more secluded area. The last thing he needed was for them to be overheard.

"I want to know why no one seems to know who I am." Drakkon said pointedly. "If anything, you and Wrynn should have alerted the Crusade, at least, to what I look like.. Ways to identify me. Clearly, neither of you did. Why?"

"It was in everyone's best interest." She said, and Drakkon rose a brow in skepticism. Tsage sighed. "After your attack on Theramore, and the resulting fall of Dalaran.. All we heard about after that was attack plans on the Citadel. Wild plans that made no sense and were not thought out. And, the way you were, we knew allowing them to go after you would likely result in too many deaths that we weren't willing to deal with. We prevented travel to Northrend, sent out a notice, and did everything we could to ease minds and calm the emotions of those directly effected." She explained. "First and foremost we were worried about the safety of the Alliance. _I _knew better than anyone just how far it would all go. You attacked Theramore out of anger at me, and Dalaran out of distrust of anyone setting foot on your continent. If we had allowed retaliation for justified events like those, I knew nothing would stop you, at that point, from bringing more of your forces into the remainder of Azeroth. Stormwind, probably, being the next logical place to strike." She said, pausing a moment. Drakkon gave a short, agreeing nod. "I've been to the citadel, I've seen how the scourge works, and I've heard what you all are really like, what you truly aspire to do, and it isn't to take over Azeroth. Though no one else seems to believe that, I know it's true, at least. Your concern is your own kingdom, your continent, and you don't care about the rest. So by preventing the outraged from attacking you and your kingdom, I hoped it would mean containment and safety."

"Then why allow the crusade to come back in?" He asked.

"That was not my decision." Tsage shook her head. "But, I could no longer sway the way others were thinking, and I figured things might have.. Cooled off, over the years." She gave another slight shrug. "What I didn't anticipate was you to be this understanding and accepting of it all. Allowing Dalaran to be raised again being the case and point of that conclusion. And, when I heard the scourge had cleared out of Crystalsong and the crusade had a clear chance at raising the city, again.. I knew the one and only reason that could ever happen is if you were allowing it to happen. Which is the real reason I came into Dalaran for the crusade's victory celebration. I knew you wouldn't allow the city raised again unless you were keeping a very close watch over it. And I needed to see, for myself, whether or not that meant you could be trusted." She said, watching him. "I need to believe this can become some sort of co-existence."

"Believe whatever you want." He said. "You keep them away from the citadel, and you won't have to worry, immediately." At this, Tsage gave a slight nod.

"Drakkon." She tried, stopping him as he began to turn away. Though he gave a small, irritated growl, he looked back to her. "I am sorry." She tried. "For everything that happened." At this, he gave a scoff.

"Just to be perfectly clear, it doesn't matter whether you're actually sorry, regret getting caught, or are just trying to create that co-existence you just mentioned. I don't forgive you, I never will, I still hate you, and I will not hesitate to kill you or anyone you send after me, should you betray me, again." He announced. "The best thing you could possibly do, for this to remain civil, is to stay away." At this, he continued on his way away from her without another word.


	12. A Distraction

Tsage had taken his advice, thankfully. He hadn't seen her around the Vanguard in quite some time. Things around Northrend hadn't exactly settled, however. More adventurers came into the continent daily. They were still leaving the citadel alone, for the most part. And, with the other races of Northrend being targeted by them, the citadel, itself, was getting back on track. According to Wolfe, they were able to build back their defenses and fleshwerks was no longer being targeted by the Vyrkil, allowing for more production of abominations and constructs. Wolfe had become the messenger, really. Anything he or Drakkon learned about the crusade's plans he would relay back to their father, and action could be taken from there. Wolfe had stopped trying to get Drakkon to return, after a while, realizing he would do so in his own time and on his own terms. He was never that easily swayed. In all honesty, any desire Drakkon had to return to the citadel was minimal. Having to deal with accusations and orders didn't sound like an appealing thought. And, with it being more secure and under control, he had no reason to return. The leaders of the other races obviously weren't planning to forgive him, and it was easier to let his father handle the things that needed to be done, there.

"You know my mother wants you back to cook for her again." Faiyte commented, earning Drakkon's attention.

"It worked so well the last time.." He muttered.

"I already told her she needs to stop being so intrusive." She said. "It won't happen again." She paused, looking over to him. "Any chance you'd want to tell me the real reason it bothered you so much?" She asked rather cautiously, and Drakkon shook his head.

"Not at all." He said. Faiyte nodded.

"I thought not." She shrugged. "Well, she wanted me to bring it up to you. She says she'd pay you, if you wanted."

"I don't need her money." Drakkon commented. "And why is it so important, anyway?"

"Something about reminding her of her younger days. When she used to eat at that restaurant in Stormwind. She watches my children for me while I'm here, during the day. I know they can be a handful and this is my chance to repay her." He still looked reluctant. "Honestly, I haven't seen you leave this place, other than for missions, in a long time. You could use some time away, my mother, and my children, would appreciate it, and, like I said, it's not like you're obligated to do this for free." She tried.

"I'm perfectly content, here, you said your mother is a good cook, and like _I_ said, I don't need the money." He retaliated, and Faiyte gave a sigh.

"Well, I _could_ make it worth your while. My offer still stands, you know." She announced.

"And I already told you that it's a bad idea."

"I'll pay you with a nice bottle of wine, then." She suggested, running short on ideas.

"I'm not that big of a drinker."

"Drak!" She huffed, agitated. Drakkon rose a brow, amused by her efforts. "You're being an asshole. What the hell are you doing, tonight, that is so damn important that you can't just come do this one simple thing for me, as a friend?"

"Since when are we friends?" He asked, and she frowned.

"Since I said so." She said sternly. "You'd rather just sit here, alone, all night?" He gave her a pointed look. "Use it as a distraction, then. Whatever the hell it is that's going on with you.. I can see it getting worse." She was talking about Kil'sha. Was it that obvious, to others? He _had_ been bothering Drakkon more, recently, but he thought he had a better handle on masking it. At seeing the hesitation, Faiyte smiled. "Just come back with me, have a nice meal with us, and forget about it for a night." She paused, and Solara called to her from the infirmary, motioning her over. "Just, think about it, alright?" She said, looking back to Drakkon before heading for Solara. As she did, Drakkon noticed Wolfe return from the citadel, where he'd been reporting the most recent events.

"Everything is still going smoothly enough." Wolfe said as he approached. "It's been re-enforced and they've got more forces guarding it, now. The horde adventurers have been getting close, but nothing to be worried about, yet." Drakkon gave a slight nod. While Tsage was doing well enough to keep the Alliance distanced, he didn't have the same sort of support from anyone in the Horde. "Oh, and here." Wolfe said, holding out a small bag Drakkon recognized immediately as the one he used to hold his pipe. "Tonik found me, said you would probably be wanting it back."

"About time.." Drakkon muttered, snatching it away.

"She thought you'd eventually come back for it. And, of course, once Mum heard that thought she wouldn't let Tonik give it back. She figured it would lure you in, but finally decided it wasn't going to."

"There's nothing they need me for." Drakkon muttered, wasting no time in opening the bag, withdrawing the pipe, and packing it with the familiar herb. "You said yourself, they've got it under control."

"Well, they still want you there to be involved.." Wolfe sighed. "They want you there, tonight."

"No." Drakkon replied, simply enough, before lighting the pipe and taking a satisfying drag.

"You do realize this is only going to make everyone _more_ upset with you, right?" Wolfe tried. "Why won't you just go back and get it out of the way."

"Not yet." Drakkon shook his head.

"I'll haul you back there kicking and screaming if I have to. All the anger at _you_ is getting directed at _me_ when I go back. You have to go back there tonight." At this, Drakkon sighed.

"Well, I already have plans, so it will have to wait." He said pointedly.

"What plans could you possibly have?" Wolfe frowned. "You never do anything."

"I don't have to report everything I do to you, no matter if everyone seems to think I _should_. I won't be here, so just drop it."

"Mum's worried about you, you know." Wolfe said. "The way things were left, the last time you were there. She doesn't think you're going to go back at all."

"I will, eventually." Drakkon shrugged. "Like I said, nothing is that pressing that I have to be there, immediately." Wolfe said nothing, only gave a slightly disapproving look before moving off, through the Vanguard. He had to go with Faiyte, now. He'd never hear the end of it, if Wolfe saw him staying in the town, that night. The decision had been made for him. Though, honestly, he'd rather go to Darnassus and deal with Faiyte's family, then go back to the Citadel and deal with his own.

He hadn't been warned, and certainly hadn't anticipated the way things would be, however. Apparently, word had traveled quickly through Faiyte's entire family. A rather large group of them had shown up, upon knowing Drakkon would be there. Faiyte's mother was hovering like a hawk the entire night, as well. Watching as Drakkon cooked the meal and asking questions like an attentive student. They had made an entire event out of it, and honestly it was quite nerve wracking, compared to the last time he'd come to Darnassus. However, Faiyte had been right, it was definitely a distraction. Not necessarily in the best of ways, though. Luckily, for Drakkon, anyway, Cypress had created a fuss among the other children present, and Faiyte's mother had stopped obsessively watching Drakkon cook in order to sort it out.

"Sorry about this." Faiyte said, giving a guilty sort of smile as she came into the kitchen. "When I told my mother you would be coming she decided to tell everyone." There wasn't even a proper response that came to mind, and Drakkon could only give her a slightly exasperated look. "Most of them should be leaving after they eat, don't worry." She assured, leaning against the counter beside him.

"I'll be going once I'm done. And, for future reference, don't ask me to do this again." Drakkon said, glancing to her.

"Oh, don't be like that." Faiyte sighed. "Like I said, I didn't expect it to be like this. I know it's a bit hectic, at the moment, but it will get better." She said. "You know my mother won't let you just leave, anyway. The rest of the family will be going home, and it will be more calm."

"And why would I be expected to stay, after I've done what's been asked of me?" He rose a brow. "If I'd known this would turn into a hostage situation.." He began.

"You still would have come." Faiyte said, earning his attention. "Your brother's got a big mouth. He was complaining about you, earlier. Saying something about you refusing to go home?"

"What else did he say?" He knew Wolfe would eventually ruin everything. He never could keep things to himself.

"Just that you'd been avoiding going home for quite a while. And he said, when you were finally being forced to, you told him you already had plans. I just drew the conclusion from your blatant reluctance to accept my offer, then your sudden decision to accept it.." She shrugged. "If you don't want to go home, it's none of my business." She clarified. "But you chose to come back here, over going wherever it is that you and your brother call home.. So clearly, this isn't as bad as what you could be dealing with, right now, right?" Drakkon gave a short nod, then went back to cooking. With Wolfe's apparent gossiping problem, and Faiyte's deductions and rationalizations, it wouldn't be long before she knew things she shouldn't. Faiyte was momentarily distracted by Evangelin rushing into the room, fleeing the commotion in the sitting room and climbing her way to sit on the counter between the two. "Eve, hun..." She began with a sigh.

"Please let me stay, mum!" Evangelin whined, grabbing hold of the counter's ledge as if to anchor herself to the spot. "Cy won't stop picking on me! I'm the youngest one here, they're all being mean."

"Your grandmother is already scolding him for it. The kitchen is too small for you to be in here on the counter. I'm sure Drak doesn't appreciate being crowded when he's trying to cook." She said pointedly, giving a nod towards him.

"She's alright." He said, causing Evangelin to grin triumphantly.

"See, he doesn't mind!" She said, looking back to her mother. Faiyte rose a brow, looking from her daughter to Drakkon.

"Are you sure?" She asked, after a small pause.

"Yeah." He nodded, glancing over to her. "She isn't hurting anything."

"Can I help?" Evangelin asked, leaning over to look into the pot. Faiyte, feeling as though her point had been made, began to reach to remove Evangelin from the counter. Drakkon, however, simply handed the young elf the spoon.

"You can stir."He announced, and Evangelin happily began to do so. Faiyte smirked, resting back against the counter, again. She watched, rather intrigued, as he directed Evangelin through cooking, explaining what to do, and allowing her to add in a few ingredients as she went. Soon enough, the food was done, and Faiyte's family began to file in to grab plates upon Evangelin's announcement and boasts about helping. Though, Cypress immediately gave a wild accusation that she'd poisoned it, upon hearing this. Drakkon had no real desire to eat, though it wasn't like it was uncommon. He simply stood back against the wall in the kitchen, thinking. He wanted to leave, to just return to the Vanguard for the night and be left alone, but that wasn't an option. He wouldn't be left alone. Faiyte had been right. Wolfe was probably waiting, expecting it.

"You have kids." Faiyte's sudden accusation made him instantly look up to her. She was still in the same place, leaning against the counter. It hadn't been a question, she sounded sure. There was no point in arguing with her about it.

"One." He said, and she smiled, moving away from the counter to approach him.

"I knew it." She grinned."A daughter?" She asked, and he took a short pause before nodding. "You know, when I first met you, I would never have believed it." She announced. "How old is she?"

"Twenty six." He honestly hated talking about Valeah . The less people who knew she existed, the safer it was, for her. Faiyte looked a bit shocked to hear the number.

"Really?" She asked.

"Yes, really." He said, a bit confused by her surprise. "Why?" Her small chuckle didn't help his wonder.

"Nothing, I just assumed she would be younger." She answered, a bit defectively. "Alright, listen, how about that wine I promised you?" She smiled, before heading across the kitchen.

"I told you that wasn't necessary." He tried.

"But you're stuck here right?" She asked, casting a smirk back over her shoulder."Or you'll have to face the wrath of your brother? You may as well make the best of it." She continued, pulling a bottle from the cabinet and pouring him a glass before returning to hand it to him. After a small hesitation, he took it. She was right.

Though Drakkon remained in the kitchen, Faiyte was eventually called away to socialize. Having no reason not to, he took advantage of the bottle she'd set out. Of course, this only disproved his earlier statement to her, that he wasn't a heavy drinker. The truth of the matter was that he was used to a bottle a night, when he was still back at the Citadel. Or a half, at least. Though, his own collection of alcohol far surpassed the quality of what he was drinking, at the moment.

_~ It was a rather bold move, telling the priest about Valeah.~ _Drakkon cursed under his breath. Of course now would be the moment Kil'sha decided to creep into his mind. _~I'm sure_ that _won't come back around to blow up in your face. Honestly, boy, do you even think_, at all, _anymore?~ _He cackled, taunting. It was only going to get worse, and Drakkon knew it. He would rather not have an audience when it did. He moved from the wall, setting his glass on the counter before slipping out of the house, unnoticed. He still couldn't go back to the Vanguard, however. He knew Wolfe would just drag him back to the Citadel. _That_ would never go over well. Instead, he simply sat outside, attempting to block Kil'sha from his thoughts. _~Oh, don't get upset with _me_, just because you're afraid to return to your precious Citadel. It isn't _my_ fault you've ruined everything.~_ Yes it was. Kil'sha was the root of all his problems. _~Now, now, that isn't fair.~_ Kil'sha huffed._~ How is it my fault that you trusted the wrong person? Allowed her into the Citadel and let your guard down. She's the one that pushed you over the edge, remember? You were fool enough to think she wouldn't ruin it all?~_ He said. ~_It seems like something someone in their right mind would learn from, doesn't it? But, clearly, you didn't. I mean, you_ are _trusting her again, aren't you? Against all proof and your own better judgment?~_ He snickered._~No matter. If she_ does _rat you out, the Crusade will do away with you. Which, of course,is just fine by me. Though, I would be jealous I didn't get to do so, myself.~_ He was right. Drakkon knew it was a foolish choice to believe Tsage wouldn't, eventually, tell the crusade who he was. Though, the only other choice was to leave the Vanguard before that happened, and return to the Citadel. _~But you won't do that, will you?~_ Kil'sha retorted to the thought. _~Because you're a weak, cowardly failure who can't face what he's done. Can't face the damage he's caused, own up to his mistakes. ~_ Drakkon grit his teeth a bit. This was getting old, very fast. _~You've always been pathetic. And you always will be. You can't actually face anything like a man. Like me, for example. How much longer are you going to keep running away? Why don't you just sleep. Come in here and face me so we can finally put an end to all this nonsense. I've waited far too long for my revenge, as it is~_

"Drak?" Faiyte's voice called over Kil'sha's taunts, and he heard the nightmare druid hiss angrily. Then, he was gone."What are you doing out-" She paused, looking over Drakkon with slight concern."Are you alright?" She tried. "Don't lie to me." She interrupted as he was about to speak, giving him a pointed look. He regarded her a moment, calming his nerves.

"I still don't want to talk about it." He said. Faiyte nodded, though she looked reluctant to drop the subject.

"Everyone's headed home, it isn't crowded inside,anymore." She announced, gesturing to the house."Why don't you come in, instead of sitting out here to be stuck, alone, in your thoughts?" She suggested, and gave a smile as he complied, getting to his feet. When she'd said everyone had left, she wasn't joking. The house was deserted. He sat on the couch, looking to Faiyte as she retrieved what was left of the wine bottle.

"What happened to your mother, and the kids? I thought they all lived here, with you." He asked.

"They do." She nodded as she returned from the kitchen, taking a seat beside him. "They've gone back home with my uncle." She announced."He's got a place in Stormwind. The kids like it up there. They asked me if they could go,and... Well I figure if you've got to stay here, at least it could be peaceful and quiet." She shrugged, handing over the bottle. Drakkon gladly took it. After just having to listen to Kil'sha, he could do for a drink. "So.." She attempted, after a short pause. "I know you don't want to tell me whatever it is that's bothering you.. But it's getting harder to ignore. Can you give me _something_, at least? Anything? No matter how vague?" She asked,earning his attention.

"There is no _vague_ way to explain it." He said."The best I can offer is to say I just get stuck in memories. But they aren't actually memories." She looked confused. "See?"

"And the... Memories... They're bad?" She asked.

"You have no idea." He muttered, taking a swig from the bottle.

"Trust me, I know all too well about bad memories."She argued, under her breath. "The point of you coming here, having something to do to preoccupy yourself, was so you wouldn't have to deal with it for a night. Seemed like you needed it."

"I thought the point was for me to cook for your mother." He said.

"That, too." She nodded, smiling. "Is it bad that I was trying to help you out, too?"

"As one person who despises being shown sympathy to another, yes." He said. "And your distraction method of having me cook for your family and handing me a bottle of wine doesn't work as well as you may think, compared to what I'm needing distraction from." He added, though he took another swig, anyhow.

"Well, you refuse to take me up on my other offer to preoccupy your thoughts, for a while."She commented with a smirk.

"So, when, exactly, can I expect you to drop that?" He sighed, looking over to her.

"I don't understand why I'm being met with such a reluctant attitude about it." She said. "Honestly, I never thought I'd have such a difficult time convincing a man to have casual, no-obligation sex with me." At this,he rose a brow.

"Why me?" He asked outright.

"Why not you?" She retaliated, and he gave a short huff of laughter, as though there were a clear answer. "What?"

"You can't be serious." He said. "Just to clear something up, you do realize what you look like, don't you?"

"Oh, so you _do_ find me attractive then?"She smirked, looking victorious.

"_Everyone_ finds you attractive." He said pointedly. "And you _know_ that. So, to my original question... Why _me_?"

"And I still say, why not you? I already explained this to you. Clearly, your issue in this rests with yourself." She paused. "You believe your brother, don't you? When he implied you weren't attractive, and you didn't fight him on it. It wasn't because you're used to it, like you said... You really believe it." She cocked her head a bit, watching him. "Am I right?"she asked, and he sighed.

"Half my face is scar tissue, Faiyte, what do you think?" He muttered." But, quite honestly, I couldn't give a damn. I never have." He announced. "Still, it makes absolutely no logical sense, what you're suggesting, because of it."

"So, you're sticking with that, then?" She asked, earning a questioning look. "Your scars?" She clarified. "And you think I'm that superficial, just because I'm pretty?"

"It's the way the world works, isn't it? Perfection and imperfection don't mix,"He said.

"I don't know whether I should be offended that you think I'm that shallow, or flattered that you called me perfect." She chuckled. "To be clear, everyone has scars. Whether they're worn on the outside or the inside. It's what makes people real and true, and they're nothing to be ashamed of. They're badges of survival." She shrugged. "Well, you admitted that you think I'm attractive, and I'm the one suggesting this. So, that should tell you something." She said pointedly.

"It still doesn't make this a good idea." He argued.

"Why not?" She asked. "I already said, I'm not looking for any long-term, emotional connection." She said. He seemed to be out of valid argument. Her smirk grew a bit, and she moved forward,slinging a leg over him to sit in his lap, facing him. She had his full attention then, and it was clear she had stunned him. "It's not like we don't currently have the perfect opportunity." She said, leaning forward against him. "What do you say?"

"You have no idea what you're getting yourself into." Drakkon tried. "Why is this so damn important to you?"

"Because it's a great way to relieve stress."She breathed, running her hands up his chest and over his shoulders to link her arms around the back of his neck, pressing against him farther. "Because it's a distraction from the chaos and pain of reality." She continued, resting her forehead against his. "Because it's pure, unlimited fun... Because it's the only way to feel completely free, anymore." She moved, brushing her lips against his in a quick, light kiss. "Because, for me, it's been four painfully long years, and you have no idea what that can do to someone." She said, a slightly pleading groan behind her voice. "Because it's not just something I _want_, but something I desperately _need_." She continued, pressing her lips to his in a more prominent, hungry kiss."And because I _know_ you want it, too." She breathed, breaking the kiss with a smirk. "It's not like you can hide that from me, right now,"She said bucking her hips against him a bit, in emphasis.

"Four years?" He rose a brow, and she gave a nod. "And when, exactly, are you expecting your mother to come back with the kids?"

"Not until after we have to leave for the Vanguard, in the morning." She grinned. "So.. should we head upstairs, then?" She asked. To this, Drakkon smirked, giving a nod towards the hallway.


	13. The Prince of Stormwind

There was movement, a bit of noise, and a brightness that seemed to come out of nowhere. It startled him, quite honestly. He sat up, taking a quick glance around the room. When the hell did the sun rise?

"Sorry." Faiyte offered, earning his attention from across the room, where she was finishing dawning her usual armor. "I didn't mean to wake you. I was planning to let you sleep, while I got ready." She continued. He'd been sleeping? For how long? "I'll be downstairs, come down whenever you're ready and we can head out. You want something to eat? I could make something." She offered. Drakkon shook his head no, struggling a bit with his own thoughts.

"No. I'm fine." He announced, and she gave a nod and small smile before leaving the room. He found it hard to believe he'd actually fallen asleep. Had stayed asleep, through the night. He ran his hand over his face, giving a slight sigh. He remembered trying to leave, and Faiyte convincing him not to. She'd said she would rather not be left alone, in the house. In fact, he remembered her seeming slightly terrified of the idea of being alone. He'd stayed, deciding Wolfe would probably still be watching out for his return, anyway. But it still seemed odd to him that he had allowed himself to sleep. What was even more odd, was that Kil'sha had left him alone. He hadn't had his usual nightmares. He hadn't had any sort of dream at all, actually. Just serene, quiet, uninterrupted nothingness. A peaceful, comforting darkness through the night. Something he hadn't had since he was a child. While it was a great relief, he couldn't help but wonder why. It had to have something to do with Faiyte. She was the only differentiating factor. It made sense, when he thought about it. Kil'sha did seem to be pushed back by her, somehow. The way he recoiled back into the depths of Drakkon's mind, whenever Fayite was around. Or, whenever she touched Drakkon, it seemed to cause the nightmare druid pain. Even if she _was_ the reasoning behind Kil'sha's absence, and Drakkon's ability to have slept, peacefully, through the night, there was still no explanation for it. There was no reason the priest should have that power. Drakkon finally moved from the bed, admitting silent defeat at attempting to solve the questions in his mind. He pulled on his armor and made his way down the stairs, all the while wondering to himself.

The convenience of Drakkon being a mage came in handy. After creating a portal to Dalaran, all that was left was a simple griffin ride to the Vanguard. It was when Drakkon made his way for his usual station, that he got interrupted.

"You really weren't here last night!" Wolfe seemed genuinely surprised as he chased after his brother. "Where the hell did you go? What were you doing?"

"I've already said, once, that it isn't any of your concern." Drakkon muttered.

"Of course it is!" Wolfe argued, quickly moving in front of Drakkon, forcing him to stop."After everything else that's been going on for the past decade! Everything that's happened in the past few _months_!?" He hissed. "Now you're just disappearing randomly?" Drakkon glared, continuing forward past Wolfe without explanation. "Drak! This is serious!"

"I don't have to answer to you, Wolfe. You're not my keeper."

"Actually, you _do_ have to answer to me! Since you _refuse_ to go back to the Cita-"

"Wolfe!" Drakkon shot, rounding on his obnoxiously loud brother. "Watch yourself."

"It isn't going to matter, soon, anyway!"Wolfe said. "They want to do away with the problem."

"What is that supposed to mean?"He asked,raising a brow.

"It's supposed to mean... "Wolfe began, lowering his voice a bit. "That Dad wants to level this place, unless you get back to the Citadel _today_."

"He can't do that." Drakkon argued.

"Yes he _can_." Wolfe corrected. "We have to go, and we have to go, now."

"I'm supposed to believe mum would allow this? For the place to be obliterated, knowing you and I are both here?"

"She can only stop him for so long, and you know that." Wolfe said. "And she's already been doing so for a while. I thought the plan was to come here to learn what we could about them. How long they'd been here, what their intentions were... Not to assimilate with them, help them raise their fallen city and help them get their foothold back in Northrend."

"I don't have to explain my decisions to you. As for this threat of taking down the Vanguard... It's only a threat. He's bluffing, to see If he can scare me back home." Drakkon said. "Everything will work out just fine."

"No, it won't." Wolfe huffed. "And it isn't a bluff, Drak... The two of you are moving towards a complete head-on collision, and it won't be good, for _anyone_, when it gets there."

"I'm not going back there." Drakkon said sternly. "Everything is going well enough that I don't have to, yet. So stop with the damn lectures." He didn't wait for a reply, and the look he gave Wolfe, before he continued on his way, gave a firm order not to follow.

It seemed he had made his point. Wolfe wasn't bothering him much, anymore. Though, there was a concern rising in Drakkon, as the next few months passed. He noticed, during his days inside the Vanguard, that they were steadily being surrounded. The amount of scourge forces through that portion of Icecrown had been minimal, at first. With each day, however, there seemed to be more of them. Maybe Wolfe had been right. Perhaps their father wasn't bluffing. It hadn't been long before there was a steady amount of scourge outside the town's limits, at all times. Even Frostwyrms were circling the skies above it. But, they hadn't made any hostile moves, yet. Of course, much to Drakkon's distaste, the thoughts of his own father plotting against him only roused Kil'sha's usual taunts. It didn't make Drakkon's paranoia any better, since Kil'sha was constantly eager to rant about the former king's inhumanity and cruel tendencies.

Though there wasn't much Drakkon could do, anymore, to keep the nightmare druid at bay, one thing remained a consistent way to do so. His suspicions of Faiyte having the ability to drive Kil'sha away had been all but proven. Kil'sha seemed angered at her presence, even scared, though it didn't make much sense. But this fact did give Drakkon back his capability to sleep peacefully. Not having been able to do so, decently, since he was thirteen, he hadn't realized how much he actually missed it. Or, for that matter, just how much the sleep helped him. The peace of mind it gave him felt completely foreign, after all the years of stress and dependence on his potions and his own diminishing willpower. But, although it wasn't normal, by the way he'd grown his standards for normalcy, it was comforting. To know Kil'sha didn't have that complete control over him, anymore, was enough of a relief in itself. The downside to his new dependency on sleep, was that he was only able to do so if Faiyte was there. He'd made the mistake, once, of attempting it without her beside him, and barely woke himself up in time to avoid being impaled by a living root. So, he hadn't made the mistake of trying again. Once was enough of a lesson for him.

The Crusade seemed to be in a mild upset, when Drakkon's griffin landed. Plenty of them looked more stressed than usual, hustling about the Vanguard in a scattered sort of way. Clearly something had happened, while he was gone. A part of him wouldn't deny the possibility that the scourge forces that crowded outside had done something. But, it seemed if that was the case, there would be some obvious damage. Everything seemed to be in tact, however, other than the Crusade's composure, that is.

"What's going on?" He asked to Solara, as she passed him. She turned, looking sidetracked and slightly off-guard.

"We've lost him." She said. "Again." She added, glancing toward the main building. "For the third time this morning."

"Lost who?" He rose a brow. Had the Crusade captured someone? If so, who? Someone that he knew? Someone that knew him?

"The prince. He was here just a moment ago, but he's run off, again." She announced. "Of course, you tell the boy to stay put and he disappears the very moment your back is turned."

"The prince?" He repeated, taking a quick glance around the Vanguard, himself.

"The prince of Stormwind. " She clarified."Luka Wrynn? You really don't get around much, do you?"

"Apparently not." He muttered, still watching the Crusade soldiers scurry about.

"He isn't even supposed to be here. He knows that, too." Solara sighed. "The plan was to take him back, immediately, through Dalaran. By the time it took to find a griffin and a suitable escort, he'd run off the first time." She explained. "So, we sent someone back to Stormwind to alert King Wrynn. Then, Prince Luka returned, for a while. He wandered the camp, spoke with a few soldiers... And was gone, again, without warning." She huffed, throwing her arms up in exasperation. "When he came back that time, he was being chased... Well... He was fighting a group of ghouls. He pulled them straight into the camp, all the while laughing about it. I tried to tell him to sit and wait, that we would work everything out, get him back to the city... And he left again!" She said, voice getting louder, and higher pitched, in clear stress. "It's been over an hour!"

"So... You're expecting Wrynn to come here? To the Vanguard, to fetch him?" Drakkon asked. Tsage he could deal with. Though he didn't trust her, she still hadn't exposed his true identity to the Crusade. Anduin Wrynn would. He doubted if the King of Stormwind even knew about it, at all.

"He very well could." Solara nodded. "But if he does come, himself, and we don't have Prince Luka here... I can't imagine he would be very happy or forgiving to find out we'd lost his only son to Northrend."

"Solara!" One of the Crusade soldiers called from across the way, earning her attention. "What are you doing, standing around and chatting? We need all the help we can get." He scolded, and Solara gave an obedient nod before looking back to Drakkon.

"Well, you heard him. Help me look. We'll take griffins and search from the skies."At this, Drakkon gave a look to the Frostwyrms hovering over head. "Oh, don't worry about them." Solara commented upon noticing. "They don't follow, when we fly out. They don't even try to attack. I think it's just the Lich king trying to send a message." She announced, earning his attention.

"What message?" He asked out of curiosity.

"That he knows we're here." She said, looking up to them, herself. "Come on." She motioned for him to follow her, leading him towards the griffins.

"How effective do you think I'll be, here?" He asked in a slight sigh. "I have no idea what this kid even looks like."

"Well, he's kind of tall, for his age. " She began as they started off on their griffins. "Blonde hair, bright green eyes." She continued as they flew. "He's started training, recently, so Hopefully his spells will give away his location. I assume he's fighting something, again."

"And.. He's old enough to be training and fighting?"

"Just barely." She said, looking over to him. "If I remember right, he's recently turned thirteen." She announced. "He's a mage, actually." She chuckled. "It would be kind of ironic, if you and I were the ones to find him. I aided in his training, a bit, when I was in Stormwind." She announced, as she continued scanning the grounds below. Drakkon, however, was caught up in his own thoughts, barely hearing her. His mind was busy with dates, numbers, math and logic. A very large par of him refused to accept the answer he reached. He had to have thought something wrong. Mixed up one of the factors... Been wrong somewhere. He hoped he was. "I've known him since he was just a boy. He never did like being told what to do. But running around Northrend... _Icecrown_... I swear he mist have some sort of death wish." Solara was still talking, oblivious to Drakkon's sudden inattention. In fact, he seemed to have forgotten she was there, at all, completely blocking her out. Until a rather large explosion a ways away from their place in the sky caught both their attention. A puff of black smoke rose over the mountains. Drakkkon realized, with a pit in his stomach, that it had come from fleshwerks. Instinctively, he tugged the reins of his griffin, immediately heading for the area.

"Drak!" Solara gasped, struggling to force her griffin to follow and being left behind a bit. "Be careful! There's a lot of them over there!" Drakkon wasn't worried. Not for his own safety, anyway. His lab, however, was an entirely different story. As he neared Fleshwerks, his dread was validated. It was certainly the source of the dark smoke. It billowed, not only from various places around the area, but from the cave that held his equipment, as well. The workers in Fleshwerks were frenzied. Everyone, including even the abominations, ghouls and geists, were scurrying to rectify the damage, as well as chasing after a young boy that Drakkon could only assume was the one they'd been looking for. While Drakkon had halted to take in the sight, Solara had immediately began her descent into the commotion. She was heading for the boy, so Drakkon quickly moved to land his griffin behind the mob chasing after. With one quick glance to make sure Solara was out of earshot, Drakkon called out to the masses, catching their attention. Though there was still a small group who hadn't heard, and continued chasing, Drakkon decided it was for the best. If he'd successfully called all of them off, Solara may get suspicious, or bring a group of Crusade back to Fleshwerks. The group still in pursuit was enough to chase her off, but not enough that she couldn't handle. This in mind, Drakkon wasted no time in returning to the heat of Fleshwerks to help clean up the mess. Though he had no desire to return to the Citadel at the moment, he couldn't just leave the Fleshwerks and his lab in shambles. He called out orders and instructions as he continued on a set path for his own laboratory. Everything else could be simply swept up, rebuilt, or replaces. But he'd spent too much time and energy perfecting his own lab to ignore it for anything else. Of course, what he found was entirely disappointing. It honestly looked like explosives had been set off inside the cave. Glass tubes, coils, and vats were shattered. Ingredients, potions, poisons and acids coated the ground in deep bubbling puddles. The electronics and tools were bent, broken, and sparking dangerously. Saronite tables were overturned, shelves were knocked down and busted, and the thick black smoke churning around the cave had, more than likely, contaminated all the ingredients that hadn't been knocked around or spilled. It was a disaster, in every use of the word. Upon seeing this, Drakkon stood, shocked and quite outraged. It was all ruined. There was a short gasp from behind him, before long, but Drakkon didn't even glance to see who it was. What was the point? There was nothing to protect, anymore. His usual rule of keeping others out of his lab was specifically to prevent circumstances like this.

"I.. I tried to keep it safe, Drak." Tonik's voice was little more than a whisper, and her usual confident and outspoken tone had been clouded by shock and, even, a bit of trepidation.

"You failed." Drakkon finally spoke, taking another moment in looking at the mess, before turning to face her.

"I'm sorry." She tried, looking quite guilty and ashamed of herself. "Could you really see it, from the Vanguard?"

"I was in the air. Looking for something." He announced, moving past her and back out of the cave. She followed, not knowing what else to do, as he made his way around the rest of Fleshwerks to check damages. She stayed quiet, however, until; he acknowledged her, again. She didn't seem to be expecting it, and took a quick step back when he turned to face her.

"How crowded is the Citadel?" He asked.

"Not very." She said. "It hasn't been in a while. With all the attacks and all.. Most of our forces are watching the Citadel, the borders, and the Vanguard." She announced. "Are you coming back?" She seemed hopeful.

"Not yet." He said. "Who's there, now?"

"If you're asking in case of your father.. He and your mother have gone back to the stronghold for a while. They're trying to figure everything out and fix this." At this, Drakkon narrowed his eyes a bit. "I'm not saying.." She struggled. "Whatever it is that you're doing.. I'm on your side. You know that." He didn't speak, only started toward the wyrm she'd flown in on. He allowed her to join him as he climbed onto it's back, then took off towards the Citadel.

Tonik hadn't been lying. The inner halls of the citadel were nearly abandoned, other than a few ghouls and servants. Tonik continued to follow him through the halls, clearly concerned. He knew she could tail after him. There was no point in trying to stop it. But, the feeling of her examining him, as they went, began to get unsettling. Eventually, he looked over to her, raising a brow.

"What?" He demanded. She faltered a bit, and gave a slight smile.

"Nothing.. You just look.." She struggled. "I don't know. You seem a lot less stressed, than usual." she paused in silence as he looked forward, again. "What happened?" She asked.

"I've been sleeping." He announced without looking to her. At this, she couldn't help the shock in her face.

"Really?" She asked, and he nodded. "Like you were, before? Or _actually_ sleeping?"

"Through the night." He clarified.

"But.. What about the nightmares?" She tried, a bit cautious.

"I'm not having them, anymore." Tonik stopped, grabbing his arm and causing him to turn to face her. "Really." He said.

"For how long?"

"A few months, now."

"So.. He's leaving you alone, now?"

"Not entirely." Drakkon muttered. "Alright.. i'm able to sleep, under the right circumstances. Otherwise, yes, it still happens."

"And, they're still the same?" She asked. "The living woods, the darkness, the fog..." She paused. "And the druid?"

"What?" The sudden, new voice caused both Drakkon and Tonik to turn quickly. The worgen, Tacoon, had heard them. "Sorry, I didn't mean to, uh.."

"Eavesdrop?" Drakkon finished, raising a brow.

"Well, yeah.' He said, approaching them. "I guess that is what I was technically doing.. But it's kind of difficulty to ignore a conversation about the emerald dream."

"...What?" Drakkon asked, after a short pause.

"The emerald dream." Tacoon repeated. "It's a dream state druids use, in times of need. It's usually used for advanced healing, recovering highly potent nature items, or speaking with spirits passed." He explained. He had Drakkon's full attention, now. "It's a peaceful place, when used correctly."

"I assure you, this place is far from peaceful."

"Like I said, it depends on how the dream is used. There have been a few instances where it has been used for less than desirable purposes. When the dream state has become corrupted by druids seeking to use it to harm, rather than help."

"And what if the druid in question is dead? Can spirits still pull others into this dream state?"

"With strong enough reason." He agreed. "In fact, spirits within the emerald dream have much more control over it, than living druids using it. They can mold surroundings and control the entire environment, instead of just utilizing it's energy."

"Such as making trees come to life, or bending roots at will?" Drakkon asked. Tacoon nodded. "Creating illusions or taking away your waking abilities?"

"It's impossible to use non-druid abilities within the dream state, unless the druid in charge, at the time, specifically allows it." Tacoon clarified.

"What if that druid had been risen as a death knight, before they met their true death? They would still be able to do all this?"

"Regardless of what you become, in life, the spirit will always remain true to what it was supposed to be." He said.

"What about priests?" Drakkon asked. "Would they have any effect on any of this?"

"Well, in certain circumstances." Tacoon said. "If a corrupted druid's spirit is dark enough, and a priest's connection to the light strong enough. A priest may be able to hinder, or even prevent the druid from pulling others into the dream. It's certainly a possibility. I'd assume a paladin would be able to do so, as well." Drakkon took a moment. It made sense, in it's own twisted way. He gave a short nod.

"Alright. As far as you're concerned, this conversation never happened." Drakkon said. "This stays between us. If you can manage to do that, you and I won't have any problems. Understood?"

"I won't say anything." Tacoon nodded in agreement. At this, Drakkon looked back to Tonik. She looked a bit confused, and slightly irritated. He didn't have time for it. He needed to get back to the Vanguard. He's wasted too much time.

"Round up a group to help Fleshwerks and fix the mess in my lab. Restock and repair... I was never here." He ordered.

It seemed calmer in the Vanguard. Perhaps the prince had stayed with them, this time. Or, even better, had already been taken back to Stormwind. Drakkon hadn't stayed away for too long. Elune forbid if Solara saw his disappearance as need to go back to Fleshwerks to get him.

"Drak!" Solara called out. He gave a glance in her direction, to see her motioning him over. With a slight sigh, Drakkon started for her, attempting to come up with a believable story along the way. Solara was within the confines of the designated training and practice area. It was lined with a fence, for seclusion purposes, and stocked with targets, dummies, assorted weaponry, and a bit of spare ground. It was usually used to simply pass the time, since the Crusade was made up of well-trained, skilled, and seasoned soldiers. "What happened to you? I was about to send a search crew!" He knew it. It was a good thing he'd decided to come back, when he did.

"Everything was under control. I could handle it on my own." He said, hoping for no further question. Though this hope was fulfilled, another was dashed. Solara lead him into the training area, gesturing to the young boy that must have been the prince.

"Well, whatever distraction you caused certainly helped out." Solara was saying. "I was able to get him out of there." As they neared the boy, he turned his attention to them, looking a bit questioning. Drakkon didn't quite know how he was excpected to act, at that moment. Solara was still talking, though he wasn't able to fully pay attention to her words. He only nodded along, hoping she and the boy, himself, wouldn't take notice of the resemblance that he did. He put all his faith, in that moment, in the changes he's been through to hinder it from outsiders. His scars, and the changes in him from being raised as a death knight. He hoped that would be enough. For now, it seemed to be. Neither Solara nor Luka looked phased. Solara turned her attention to luka, then, and Drakkon forced himself out of his daze.

"This is Drak. He's actually the one who's been helping _me_, recently." Solara said, gesturing to Drakkon. Luka took a moment, looking him over, then glancing back to Solara.

"But.. He's a death knight." He said.

"And mage." She said. "He's still able to use his abilities, from his past life." She explained, looking back to Drakkon. "Show him." She tried, noticing Luka's reluctance to believe her. Drakkon hesitated a bit, but turned and cast a quick fire spell at one of the targets. It was instantly set ablaze in wild blue flames. Luka looked stunned, to say the lease.

"How can you do that?" Luka exclaimed, watching the fire flicker as it quickly burned away at the target.

"Luck." Drakkon offered with a shrug. He still had to find a way to get away before Wrynn showed up. Of course, being in the presence of the 'prince' was unsettling, in itself. "I need to get back to work." He said, looking to Solara.

"How do you get it to be blue?" Luka demanded, finally turning to face Drakkon. "Is it because you're a death knight, too?"

"I've actually wondered the same thing. Your fire spells are always blue." Solara commented.

"It's about control." Drakkon said. "It has nothing to do with being a death knight."

"So, you can change the color of it, at will?" Luka asked, clearly amused.

"Not entirely." Drakkon said. "It's not like you can cause it to be _any_ color you want." Luka rose a brow, and Solara cocked her head a bit. Drakkon sighed. "It has to do with heat. The intensity or the spell, itself.. Have either of you actually studied?"

"I've studied what I had to." Solara shrugged, and Luke gave a nod in agreement. Drakkon fought the urge to rant about the importance of simple book smarts, and gave a quick glance back to the target, still ablaze.

"Alright, there's an entire range of colors in any fire. The center of it, the hottest part, is blue." He explained, as briefly and quickly as possible. "This is all just simple basics, by the way." He slipped. "You both should know this, by now. And you should know _everything_ if you want to make it into the Kirin'tor one day." He said, focusing on Solara. She had mentioned, more than once, that this was her goal. He couldn't imagine why she wouldn't have tried to best her abilities. "And you." He looked to Luka. "I'm sure the Keep has an extensive library, stocked with all sorts of literature on this. There's no reason you can't pick up a book, every now and then, rather than running off to come to Northrend and risk being torn to shreds." He stopped himself. There was no time for this. He looked back to Solara, nodding towards his usual station, a ways across the Vanguard. "I have to go." He didn't wait for an argument. As he left the target range, he heard the two continuing to talk about the blue fire, and heard a few practice spells being cast. At least they were preoccupied. She didn't have to worry about Luka running off, again. Hopefully, the two would remain in the training area. It was far enough away and blocked from view enough that, if Wrynn did show up, he wouldn't have to worry about being seen.

"He won't leave me alone." Faiyte announced, as she approached. She leaned forward onto the table with a heavy huff.

"Who?" Drakkon asked, raining a brow as he looked up to her.

"Wolfe." She clarified, nodding back over her shoulder.

"And this is a surprise?" He asked. "You've known him long enough to know he doesn't give up."

"I figured he would at least forget about what I look like! I mean, Light, he hasn't seen my face since the night in Dalaran!"

"I find it hard to believe _anyone_ could forget what you look like." At this comment, she looked back to him. "Especially someone like Wolfe. Women like you are what his life revolves around. You're a conquest."

"So, what, you're just going to let him continue to act like this?" At this, she had his full attention.

"Why, exactly, would I stop him?"

"Well, doesn't it bother you?" She tried, struggling.

"Considering that whatever it is that's going on between you and I is strictly superficial and unattached... No, not really. "

"Ok, well maybe I'll just go sleep with him, then. I mean, that's all he wants right? Maybe if I just go do it then he'll leave me alone." She suggested, a bit of a sharpness to her tone at his indifference.

"Go ahead." He shrugged. "But he will still follow you around expecting it to happen, again." She gave a sharp, irritated sigh, standing straight and crossing her arms.

"Regardless of whether or not our arrangement is 'detached', it should _still_ bother you. As if you can actually entertain the thought of sharing a woman with your brother.."

"It wouldn't be the first time." He muttered, and Faiyte looked shocked.

"What!?"

"Nothing." He shook his head, focusing on her again. "What, exactly, would you like me to do about this?"

"Tell him to back off! Kick his ass, I don't care!" She said, uncrossing her arms and throwing them up in exasperation. "I'm sick of him hanging on me and trying to charm me and everything _else_ he's trying to do!"

"The problem with that is he would figure out what's truly going on, if I tried to stop him." Drakkon said pointedly.

"So, do so in a way that he _won't_ figure it out." Faiyte sighed. "You can outsmart him."

"Easily." He nodded. "But _anything_ I do to stop him will automatically make him assume. I already gave him the go ahead, a while back. If I try to stop him, now, he'll know."

"You... Gave him the go ahead!?" She repeated. "What the hell? You two were calling dibs on me!?"

"Wolfe was the one calling dibs." Drakkon clarified.

"Well, he doesn't stop when _I_ tell him to. I thought i'd have better luck if _you_ did."

"Like I said, unless you want everyone knowing.. Which I assume you don't."

"Everyone? He wouldn't-"

"He would. Wolfe is a loudmouth. He couldn't keep a secret to save his own life." Drakkon interrupted.

"Well, do you at least have any advice?" She tried.

"You could always severely disfigure yourself." He shrugged. "That's the only way to get him to stop. Or, just learn to deal with it."

"The sympathy is just lovely." Faiyte muttered, voice heavy with sarcasm.

"If you expect sympathy from me, clearly you don't know me well enough." He gave a shrug, continuing his work.


	14. The Emerald Nightmare

Something was wrong. Something was severely and completely wrong. The chill, the thick, foggy air, the darkness.. It was eerily familiar. Drakkon struggled, hoping his instincts had drawn the wrong conclusion. He needed to wake up. Immediately, before something awful happened. How had this even happened, at all/ He'd fallen asleep with Faiyte. That _always_ worked. What went wrong? There was a slithering sound beside him, like a serpent dragging it's belly along the woodland floor. Of course, he knew better, by now. He leapt up and off the ground as the living roots snapped, tangling around with each other in the area he'd just been laying. In his sudden motion, the forest around him sprang to life. Tree branches thrashed around him, the roots writhed beneath him, and the fog rolled up and thickened, obscuring his vision. This, however, he'd grown used to. He expected it. His hope was in waking up before Kil'sha showed himself. A dark, resounding cackle pierced the air, however. The nightmare druid knew he was there. Focusing his thoughts on waking himself, Drakkon fled from the laugh, the roots, the branches, and the fog. It followed him, however. Of course it did. Kil'sha had complete control of the situation. His mind strayed to what Tacoon had said. If it was really true, there honestly was nothing he could do to fight it. It was less of Kil'sha being inside Drakkon's head, and more Drakkon being in Kil'sha's. This thought was even more unsettling. With his lapse of attention, a root easily tripped Drakkon, sending him down into the violent, whipping, thorned roots on the ground. He closed his eyes and grit his teeth, expecting the forest to grab hold of him, hold him down, tear him apart... But it didn't. In fact, it seemed to calm for a moment. Kil'sha's chuckling had even stopped. Had he woken up? Hopeful, Drakkon opened his eyes. No such luck.

"My, my..." Kil'sha's drawl wasn't echoing or threatening. It seemed amused. "What have we, here?" Drakkon glanced around in wonder and confusion. What was happening? "Aren't _you_ just a precious, delicate, pretty little flower..." What? Suddenly, there was a piercing scream, and Kil'sha's malicious laughter barked through the trees. A scream? It had to be a trap. Something to lure Drakkon in. The curiosity, however, was the mage's downfall. "Calm, calm, dear.." Kil'sha continues as Drakkon cautiously followed the sound. "There's no need to scream. No one will come to your rescue, in here. They can't." Drakkon could see Kil'sha's silhouette, along with a mass of roots. They were gripping something, high above the ground, dangling it before Kil'sha's face. As Drakkon neared, careful to stay hidden behind trees and brush, he could make out the restrained figure of a woman. She was held, upside down, by the roots. Drakkon faltered. It had been a long time since Kil'sha used this tactic. When Drakkon was younger, Kil'sha had a tendency to create illusions of Nyteshayde to torture him. He didn't think Kil'sha would resort to this, again. Drakkon had long since discovered that these situations weren't real. Kil'sha had only been able to fool him with this method once, since then. That was when the illusion was of Jaimee, instead of Nyteshayde. Kil'sha seemed devoted now, though, to making it seem real. He was still focused on the woman, running a claw over her face lightly and attempting to calm her thrashing panic. Drakkon moved a bit closer, curious.

"You know, little girl... You've caused me quite a bit of trouble, this past year." He was speaking in a hauntingly calm tone. Drakkon stopped in his tracks as enough light was shed for him to properly see. The woman being suspended by the roots was Faiyte. Did Kil'sha, though, was taking measures to make it convincing.

"What the hell is this!?" Faiyte shrieked, finding her words. Kil'sha grinned wickedly.

"This is _my_ world, dear." He hissed. **"**_I_ control what goes on, here." The roots tightened around her, and she gave a cry in pain, struggling against them. "It hurts less if you don't fight it." Kil'sha commented. "How did you get in here?" He asked, cocking his elk-horned head. "Not that I'm complaining. You're a rather pleasant change to the usual scenery. And, I must say, I'll thoroughly enjoy peeling that pretty skin of your away from your bones." Kil'sha managed to maintain his calm voice as he spoke the words, and it clearly terrified Faiyte that he did so. Drakkon faltered. This _was_ an illusion, right? It _had_ to be an illusion. Kil'sha moved, digging his sharp claw into her cheek a bit. The snarl of pain she gave felt all too real. Drakkon realized, with a begrudging reluctance, that he couldn't risk this just being another trick. He leapt from his hiding place, slicing one of the roots that lead up to the ones restraining Faiyte. While his usual abilities, both mage and death knight, were drained while in the nightmare, his bladed claw always remained his only form of defense. As the razor sharp metal of it easily severed the root, the rest of them twisted around in pain, loosening their grip on Faiyte in the process. Luckily, they'd lowered in their thrashing. She didn't hit the ground too hard. Drakkon expected her to vanish. He expected her to have been a vision and thought Kil'sha would laugh and reveal it to have been a trap. However, Kil'sha appeared to be quite shocked as he whipped around to see Drakkon.

"Oh, you _are_ here!" Kil'sha grinned, sending his roots for Drakkon. He quickly dodged and lashed with his claw to the best of his ability. Faiyte was shocked still, looking from the massive nightmare druid, to the roots, to Drakkon. "You'll pay for interrupting my fun, boy!" Kil'sha snarled, charging, claws splayed threateningly. Drakkon held his breath, bracing himself. He leapt onto one of the writhing roots, using it to propel himself into the air, straight at Kil'sha. The druid hadn't been expecting this. The roots followed after Drakkon obediently and, as the mage cleared the druid's horns, the roots tangled in them, dragging Kil'sha down. He let out an outraged roar, and Drakkon quickly ran over the back of Kil'sha's buck-like body. He leapt back to the ground, snatching Faiyte as he continued to run. She caught on quickly, and hurriedly ran with Drakkon in a frenzied panic. As Kil'sha attempted to untangle himself from the mass of roots, Drakkon lead Faiyte far enough away, then stopped, ducking behind a gathering of trees. Faiyte gave an attempt to run farther, but Drakkon held onto her, preventing it. As she struggled, he demanded her attention.

"The forest doesn't have eyes or ears, Faiyte." He said. "But it _can_ sense movement. Vibrations.. If you don't _move_, we'll be fine, for a while.. How are you here?! Is this real?!" He couldn't hold back the question, and Faiyte took a moment to catch her breath and work past her terror.

"What the hell is going on Drak!? What is this place!?" It was real. But how?

"Alright, this is going to sound..." He faltered. "Apparently, you've been pulled into my nightmare. That druid is Kil'sha. He's been trying to kill me for years. He controls the forest and everything in it. Your only chance to survive is to wake up." He tried. She looked stuck in shock.

"How is any of that even possible?! Am I dreaming?!"

"Kind of." His answer only seemed to confuse her more. "We both are.. But this dream can kill you. If you die, in here, you're dead. Trust me."

"Trust you!? I don't even know if you're real!"

"All of this is real." Drakkon clarified. "How did you get here? What's the last thing you remember, before you woke up, here?"

"Before I woke up... In a dream..." She breathed, glancing around.

"Focus, and answer me." He demanded, gaining her attention.

"I.." She struggled. "It.."

_"Quickly_, Faiyte." He rushed. "He _will_ find us."

"I just.. I remember waking up, and getting out of bed to get ready.. You were still asleep. And you just.." She paused. "I don't know, you looked like you were in _pain_, so I was going to wake you up! When I touched you..." She sighed. "Damnit, Drak, I don't get it, but everything just went black, and then I was here!" He nodded, thinking. Kil'sha's shouting after them was getting closer. Faiyte noticed this, too, and panicked. "What do we do?"

"Focus on waking up." He said. "Like I said, you stand no chance, here. You can't beat him, I've tried." Faiyte gave a nod, though she seemed too lost in what was going on to be able to do so. The roots around them rising up to fight certainly didn't help, either, causing her to shriek in surprise and whip around quickly. The roots shot from the fog so fast that it was left behind them in little white trails, surrounded them like a cage, and leaving no room to run.

"I caught you, you little shit!" Kil'sha bellowed, appearing from behind the mass of trees. "You think you can just run forever!? That you can just hide from me? _IGNORE ME!?_" The druid's voice had turned vicious and threatening, echoing through the forest loudly. The roots descended, attempting to grasp both Drakkon and Faiyte. Drakkon did his best to use his claw to fight them off. It worked, for a short time. Though for ever one root he was able to cut down, three more rose from the fog to replace it. As Kil'sha became impatient, they grew more ruthless. One quickly snapper around Drakkon's ankle, yanking him quickly off the ground and rushing through the air to hang him in front of Kil'sha. Much like the way Faiyte had been, although much less restrained. Drakkon took the opportunity to twist around, swinging his claw right at Kil'sha's face. The druid moved quickly, however, and the claw only managed to nick his horn. Kil'sha growled at the outburst, focusing on Drakkon in a glare.

"Well, that thing has just become a complete nuisance, hasn't it?" He hissed. This said, another root shot up from beneath Drakkon to wrap around the mechanical arm. "How well is that thing attached?" Kil'sha chuckled as the root tightened itself. The one around Drakkon's ankle remained in place, therefore causing the roots to stretch Drakkon, length-wise. "Will it come off, first, or will it tear _you_ apart?" Drakkon struggled against the roots, attempting to twist the claw around to sever the one holding it. Kil'sha's snickering was interrupted by a decent sized rock, that flew through the air and hit the druid in the stomach. It wasn't enough to do any damage, but it certainly grabbed his attention. She couldn't be that foolish, could she? Drakkon moved, looking back towards Faiyte, who was rooting around beneath the thick fog for another rock to throw.

"Faiyte!" Drakkon called. "What the hell are you doing!?" He scolded. Kil'sha laughed, amused by her attempts. "Wake up! Get out of here!"

"And let the giant elk druid literally tear you in half? That sounds like something I would do." Faiyte huffed, getting to her feet, clenching two more rocks. One of which, she threw at Kil'sha. One of the roots easily rose, however, to hit it back, midair.

"How fun!" Kil'sha laughed. "Go ahead, throw another!" He suggested. Drakkon looked back to him momentarily. His focus was completely on Faiyte in amusement. Drakkon moved, struggling to free his claw. Faiyte seemed to notice this, and continued to throw rocks at Kil'sha as a distraction. After a while of attempting to free himself, it was clear that the root was far too entwined around his mechanical arm for him to be able to do so. And, it was around this time, that Kil'sha's initial amusement faded. "Alright. That's about enough." He said, and a root shot up to twist around Faiyte's torso, pulling her up from the ground to bring her in front of Kil'sha, as well. She didn't scream, as it happened. In fact, she seemed to have been expecting it.

"Drak!" She called, gaining his attention before tossing something towards him as she passed. Drakkon quickly moved to catch it. Whatever it was, she obviously thought it important enough to subject herself to the roots. It was a rather flat, slightly pointed rock. Kil'sha noticed this, and made an attempt to snatch it. Drakkon was faster, however, driving it into the root holding his claw as deep as he could. The root reacted immediately, though not in a way that was entirely beneficial. As it was entwined with the metal, when it reeled in pain, it snapped through a few places. Drakkon swore loudly. Not again. Though the resulting shower of sparks was enough for the root to withdraw completely. And, even, the one around his ankle swiftly fled from him. This bright flash also caught Kil'sha's undivided attention, however. He set after Drakkon as the mage hit the ground, lashing with his own claws and setting an onslaught of dangerous hoof kicks that had Drakkon dodging, ducking and rolling out of the way quickly. There was just too much coming at him, at once. His claw remained sparking and, although it was painful, if proved to be effective in fighting off the roots that came after him. In the process of dodging Kil'sha, he was able to hit the root holding Faiyte, causing it to release her. This angered Kil'sha more, and his flurry of attacks became more vicious.

"What now!?" Faiyte asked, scattering away from roots and Kil'sha's attacks. Thinking quickly, Drakkon latched onto her as she passed him, using his claw to send a shock through her. It worked. She gave a sqeak of shock and pain, then she seemed to disappear. She'd woken up.

"Damnit you little pest!" Kil'sha growled, striking out. As he did so, Drakkon managed to grab lock his claw around Kil'sha's wrist. The druid howled in surprise, jumping back. This idea worked, as well. The shock was enough to cause a lapse of control, and Drakkon was released from the nightmare.

As he came back into consciousness, he shot out of bed. He didn't want anything to do with laying down or even thinking about sleeping, at the moment. His arm was still sparking slightly, though it had slowed quite a bit. Faiyte was leaning back against the wall, apparently sharing Drakkon's view of the bed, at the moment. She looked completely terrified, staring at the mattress, which held a few blood spots. Of course, Drakkon was immune to this sight. He was used to waking up with much worse.

"Faiyte?" He tried, after a moment to calm himself. She'd hadn't moved. At him saying her name, however, her wide eyes snapped to him.

"What the hell!?" She demanded, voice a bit high pitched in stress. "So... So that was all _REAL_!?"

"As real as it gets, yeah." He nodded.

"And I could have really died in there!? What the hell was that place!? Who, exactly, was that!?"

"It's a very long, complicated story." Drakkon muttered. "Let's just assume that was a one time thing.. You being pulled into it, I mean. We don't have to go into detail about all that mess.."

"Drak! I was just in your damn nightmare! Where I could have been killed by some insane enemy you've apparently made!" Faiyte was slightly hysterical, and she still hadn't moved from her place, pressed back against the wall, looking as though she might be stuck there. "I _deserve_ a damn explanation and as much information as you can give me!"

"Faiyte? Dearie, are you still home?" Faiyte's face became even paler, at the sound of her mother's voice. Drakkon, too, froze. Drakkon and Faiyte's arrangement had always been careful enough that they always made sure Elnoir, Cypress, and Evangelin were going to be out of the house. And they'd usually began their way back to the Vanguard before the three of them even returned home. "Faiyte, I know I said it in question form, But I could hear you. I know you're in there." Elnoir was saying, coming up the hallway. Faiyte moved like lightning, then, dashing for the door and leaving the room, closing the door behind her. He could hear them speaking just outside the door, and he quickly tried to come up with a solution as he pulled his armor over his clothes. If his claw wasn't broken, he'd have simply been able to teleport himself into Dalaran. It was when he considered simply going out the window, that the door opened, again.

"Drak. She knows you're here." Faiyte said as she came back into the room, looking defeated. At this, he gave a glance back to the door. "She wants you downstairs. I need to get ready. We _will_ talk about what happened."

"Why?" He asked, after a pause in watching Faiyte cross the room to gather up her things and armor to change.

"Because I deserve to-"

"Why does she want me downstairs?" He clarified. "Can't I just, you know, leave?" He tried. She smirked slightly.

"Are you afraid of my mother, Drak?" He scowled a bit. "Just go down there, talk to her.. She'll probably force you to eat breakfast..." Her tone wasn't convincing.

"Yeah. That's what will happen." He muttered.

"You have to stay here to fix your arm, anyway." She sighed. "Just get this over with. She'll end up coming down to the Vanguard to talk to you if she has to. Just get it over with." The sad part is that it was the truth. Elnoir was stubborn and determined enough that she probably would chase him down. This thought in mind, he reluctantly left the room to head downstairs.

"The robot is here!" Cypress called out from the sitting room, as Drakkon came into view. Well, that was just great. Elnoir looked up, from her place rooting around in the kitchen, giving Drakkon a once over before focusing on Cypress.

"Cy, why don't you go play outside with your sister for a bit, alright?" At this, Cypress gave a huff.

"But-"

"Cypress." Elnoir said sternly. "I need to speak with Drak, a moment. Please." Cypress gave a defeated sigh, then rose from the couch to head outside. As he did so, Elnoir looked back to Drakkon, pointing to the chairs at the kitchen counter. "Sit." He began to argue, but the look in her eyes caused him to stop.

"What exactly has Faiyte told you?" He asked, reluctantly taking a seat.

"What I needed to know." She said, watching him in a rather scrutinizing way.

"And, clearly, you don't approve. That's what the point is going to be, isn't it?" He rose a brow. "So can we just skip over this, and I'll leave?"

"It's not quite that simple." Elnoir said, shaking her head. "This is my daughter we're talking about. She's already been through enough, she certainly doesn't need more complications. And, she seems to think there won't be any.. That she has it entirely under control, but that's what she thought, before." Elnoir paused. "From what she's said, you two aren't.." She trailed "But even if it is as detached as she says it is, your kind have a tendency to ruin everything in your path.."

"My kind?"

"Death knights." She clarified. "My father, my husband, and my daughter have all been part of the Crusade. I've spent my life hearing stories about death knights, and just how evil they can be. Faiyte has dealt with enough evil, through her life."

"And what 'evil' has she gone through?" He asked partly for curiosity. Though, mostly, he asked because he doubted it could compare to the things he, himself, had seen. Elnoir looked ready to answer, but Faiyte came in, interrupting.

"Mother. Don't you dare." Her tone was completely serious and, after saying it, she gave Drakkon a quick, disapproving glance. "As far as all this goes, I am an adult, I can make my own decisions."

"What happened the last time you didn't listen to me?" Elnoir seemed upset, and her words only made Faiyte glare.

"That was different. Now, we're already late. We have to go." She gave a quick motion for Drakkon to follow, then started straight out of the house without another word. Not wanting to get caught in a verbal row with Elnoir, Drakkon quickly tailed after. He waited as Faiyte said a quick goodbye to her children, then the two started through the city. "Seeing as how your arm is.. Well, out of commission, we'll have to go through Stormwind to get into Northrend." Faiyte announced.

"Or, I could stay and _fix_ it." Drakkon tried. Stormwind wasn't the best idea, for him.

"We're already late." Her tone was still cold, and it seemed unwise to argue. Though,he'd rather deal with Faiyte being angry, then having Stormwind chase him down, again, and blow his cover, in the process. He stopped as they neared the portal to Rut'theran Villiage. Faiyte noticed this immediately, and looked back to him in exasperation. "What?"

"I'm going to fix my arm, and go through a portal to Dalaran." He announced, unwavering. Faiyte scowled a bit.

"I will drag you through to Rut'theran, damnit!"

"Try it." He dared, and she huffed.

"What the hell is your issue with Stormwind!? I mean, I don't like the city, either, but it's faster than waiting for you to fix that thing!" She said. "And you still have to explain that insane nightmare to me!"

"Like I said, don't worry about it. It shouldn't happen to you again."

"But it _will_ happen to _you_?"

"Not if I don't sleep. The problem is resolved."

"No it isn't! Why the hell are you so stubborn!?"

"I could ask you the same thing, you know." He said pointedly. "If you get to keep secrets, then so do I." She was silent for a bit, watching him.

"Why does it matter to you, what I've been through?" She asked. "I have valid reasoning to be interested in this nightmare business.. Considering it nearly _killed_ me.. but you have no reason to pry into my past."

"Actually I do." He said. "Considering that it apparently automatically makes me the bad guy, in your mother's eyes. And, i'm assuming it's the reason you don't want to be left alone, and you _forced_ me to stay with you. All of this, the nightmare, and your mother figuring things out, if you would just let me _leave_, when-"

"So now we're criticizing the fact that I don't like to be left alone!?" She glared.

"No, it's not that you don't _like_ to be left alone, it's that you're _terrified_ of being left alone."

"You would be, too!" She hissed. "If you had someone you _though_ you could trust, turn into a damn _monster_ and break into your home to _kill_ you! If the only reason you had the strength to fight back and survive, at all, was knowing that there was someone else in the damn house that you had to protect!" She shot. "After something like that, you prefer to have someone around. Anyone, it doesn't matter.. Especially knowing that same bastard that tried to kill you is still alive and well, perfectly capable of breaking out of prison and coming after you, again, whenever the hell he sees fit!" She paused, taking a few breaths to calm herself as a few passers by started to look on in curiosity. "This is neither the right place nor the right time, for this conversation. But, considering this nightmare just happened this morning, instead of four years ago, I think I deserve some insight."

"Fine.. What, exactly, do you want to know?" He asked. He was reluctant to talk about it, knowing there were several details that could give away who he was, but she _did_ have the right to know.

"First of all, how long has this been going on?"

"Decades. Next question." He answered shortly.

"The druid.. Why does he want you dead?" This one was a bit of a struggle.

"I knew him, when he was alive. We didn't get along well." He tried, and Faiyte crossed her arms. It wasn't good enough.

"I thought we agreed a while ago that you wouldn't try to bullshit me."

"I tortured him." Drakkon said outright, and Faiyte's scowl twisted in a bit of shock. "He hurting my mother, he was apprehended, and I tortured him for it. Once he died, the nightmares started. I was thirteen." Faiyte took a moment, then nodded.

"So.. He's dead?" She asked.

"Technically." Drakkon said. "This was all just recently explained to me, in a way that made even the slightest amount of sense."

"By who?"

"A druid I know."

"A living one?" She rose a brow. Drakkon nodded. "I want to talk to him." At this, Drakkon faltered. "Where is he?"

"I don't know." He tried.

"Drak! Don't lie to me!" Faiyte frowned, and Drakkon sighed.

"He mentioned living in Stormwind." He reluctantly answered, and Faiyte gave a look back towards the portal. "Can't you just go, yourself?"

"Will he talk to me, if you don't go?" She asked. Drakkon cursed, starting past her for the portal. It was quiet, for quite a while, as they waited at the docks, each lost in their own thoughts. Drakkon was busy trying to route Stormwind's layout in his mind, attempting to find the best route to take, where he wouldn't be noticed. Either way, it was a great risk to even step foot into the city. Teh again, if the crusade hadn't been told anything about him, perhaps the Stormwind Guard hadn't either.

"These nightmares.." Faiyte suddenly spoke, just as the shit came into view on the horizon. "They're the reason you're so messed up, aren't they?" She was blunt about it, but it's not like Drakkon didn't expect everyone to think he was messed up, anyway.

"Yeah, pretty much." He nodded.


	15. To Stormwind

Something was wrong. Something was severely and completely wrong. The chill, the thick, foggy air, the darkness.. It was eerily familiar. Drakkon struggled, hoping his instincts had drawn the wrong conclusion. He needed to wake up. Immediately, before something awful happened. How had this even happened, at all/ He'd fallen asleep with Faiyte. That _always_ worked. What went wrong? There was a slithering sound beside him, like a serpent dragging it's belly along the woodland floor. Of course, he knew better, by now. He leapt up and off the ground as the living roots snapped, tangling around with each other in the area he'd just been laying. In his sudden motion, the forest around him sprang to life. Tree branches thrashed around him, the roots writhed beneath him, and the fog rolled up and thickened, obscuring his vision. This, however, he'd grown used to. He expected it. His hope was in waking up before Kil'sha showed himself. A dark, resounding cackle pierced the air, however. The nightmare druid knew he was there. Focusing his thoughts on waking himself, Drakkon fled from the laugh, the roots, the branches, and the fog. It followed him, however. Of course it did. Kil'sha had complete control of the situation. His mind strayed to what Tacoon had said. If it was really true, there honestly was nothing he could do to fight it. It was less of Kil'sha being inside Drakkon's head, and more Drakkon being in Kil'sha's. This thought was even more unsettling. With his lapse of attention, a root easily tripped Drakkon, sending him down into the violent, whipping, thorned roots on the ground. He closed his eyes and grit his teeth, expecting the forest to grab hold of him, hold him down, tear him apart... But it didn't. In fact, it seemed to calm for a moment. Kil'sha's chuckling had even stopped. Had he woken up? Hopeful, Drakkon opened his eyes. No such luck.

"My, my..." Kil'sha's drawl wasn't echoing or threatening. It seemed amused. "What have we, here?" Drakkon glanced around in wonder and confusion. What was happening? "Aren't _you_ just a precious, delicate, pretty little flower..." What? Suddenly, there was a piercing scream, and Kil'sha's malicious laughter barked through the trees. A scream? It had to be a trap. Something to lure Drakkon in. The curiosity, however, was the mage's downfall. "Calm, calm, dear.." Kil'sha continues as Drakkon cautiously followed the sound. "There's no need to scream. No one will come to your rescue, in here. They can't." Drakkon could see Kil'sha's silhouette, along with a mass of roots. They were gripping something, high above the ground, dangling it before Kil'sha's face. As Drakkon neared, careful to stay hidden behind trees and brush, he could make out the restrained figure of a woman. She was held, upside down, by the roots. Drakkon faltered. It had been a long time since Kil'sha used this tactic. When Drakkon was younger, Kil'sha had a tendency to create illusions of Nyteshayde to torture him. He didn't think Kil'sha would resort to this, again. Drakkon had long since discovered that these situations weren't real. Kil'sha had only been able to fool him with this method once, since then. That was when the illusion was of Jaimee, instead of Nyteshayde. Kil'sha seemed devoted now, though, to making it seem real. He was still focused on the woman, running a claw over her face lightly and attempting to calm her thrashing panic. Drakkon moved a bit closer, curious.

"You know, little girl... You've caused me quite a bit of trouble, this past year." He was speaking in a hauntingly calm tone. Drakkon stopped in his tracks as enough light was shed for him to properly see. The woman being suspended by the roots was Faiyte. Did Kil'sha, though, was taking measures to make it convincing.

"What the hell is this!?" Faiyte shrieked, finding her words. Kil'sha grinned wickedly.

"This is _my_ world, dear." He hissed. **"**_I_ control what goes on, here." The roots tightened around her, and she gave a cry in pain, struggling against them. "It hurts less if you don't fight it." Kil'sha commented. "How did you get in here?" He asked, cocking his elk-horned head. "Not that I'm complaining. You're a rather pleasant change to the usual scenery. And, I must say, I'll thoroughly enjoy peeling that pretty skin of your away from your bones." Kil'sha managed to maintain his calm voice as he spoke the words, and it clearly terrified Faiyte that he did so. Drakkon faltered. This _was_ an illusion, right? It _had_ to be an illusion. Kil'sha moved, digging his sharp claw into her cheek a bit. The snarl of pain she gave felt all too real. Drakkon realized, with a begrudging reluctance, that he couldn't risk this just being another trick. He leapt from his hiding place, slicing one of the roots that lead up to the ones restraining Faiyte. While his usual abilities, both mage and death knight, were drained while in the nightmare, his bladed claw always remained his only form of defense. As the razor sharp metal of it easily severed the root, the rest of them twisted around in pain, loosening their grip on Faiyte in the process. Luckily, they'd lowered in their thrashing. She didn't hit the ground too hard. Drakkon expected her to vanish. He expected her to have been a vision and thought Kil'sha would laugh and reveal it to have been a trap. However, Kil'sha appeared to be quite shocked as he whipped around to see Drakkon.

"Oh, you _are_ here!" Kil'sha grinned, sending his roots for Drakkon. He quickly dodged and lashed with his claw to the best of his ability. Faiyte was shocked still, looking from the massive nightmare druid, to the roots, to Drakkon. "You'll pay for interrupting my fun, boy!" Kil'sha snarled, charging, claws splayed threateningly. Drakkon held his breath, bracing himself. He leapt onto one of the writhing roots, using it to propel himself into the air, straight at Kil'sha. The druid hadn't been expecting this. The roots followed after Drakkon obediently and, as the mage cleared the druid's horns, the roots tangled in them, dragging Kil'sha down. He let out an outraged roar, and Drakkon quickly ran over the back of Kil'sha's buck-like body. He leapt back to the ground, snatching Faiyte as he continued to run. She caught on quickly, and hurriedly ran with Drakkon in a frenzied panic. As Kil'sha attempted to untangle himself from the mass of roots, Drakkon lead Faiyte far enough away, then stopped, ducking behind a gathering of trees. Faiyte gave an attempt to run farther, but Drakkon held onto her, preventing it. As she struggled, he demanded her attention.

"The forest doesn't have eyes or ears, Faiyte." He said. "But it _can_ sense movement. Vibrations.. If you don't _move_, we'll be fine, for a while.. How are you here?! Is this real?!" He couldn't hold back the question, and Faiyte took a moment to catch her breath and work past her terror.

"What the hell is going on Drak!? What is this place!?" It was real. But how?

"Alright, this is going to sound..." He faltered. "Apparently, you've been pulled into my nightmare. That druid is Kil'sha. He's been trying to kill me for years. He controls the forest and everything in it. Your only chance to survive is to wake up." He tried. She looked stuck in shock.

"How is any of that even possible?! Am I dreaming?!"

"Kind of." His answer only seemed to confuse her more. "We both are.. But this dream can kill you. If you die, in here, you're dead. Trust me."

"Trust you!? I don't even know if you're real!"

"All of this is real." Drakkon clarified. "How did you get here? What's the last thing you remember, before you woke up, here?"

"Before I woke up... In a dream..." She breathed, glancing around.

"Focus, and answer me." He demanded, gaining her attention.

"I.." She struggled. "It.."

_"Quickly_, Faiyte." He rushed. "He _will_ find us."

"I just.. I remember waking up, and getting out of bed to get ready.. You were still asleep. And you just.." She paused. "I don't know, you looked like you were in _pain_, so I was going to wake you up! When I touched you..." She sighed. "Damnit, Drak, I don't get it, but everything just went black, and then I was here!" He nodded, thinking. Kil'sha's shouting after them was getting closer. Faiyte noticed this, too, and panicked. "What do we do?"

"Focus on waking up." He said. "Like I said, you stand no chance, here. You can't beat him, I've tried." Faiyte gave a nod, though she seemed too lost in what was going on to be able to do so. The roots around them rising up to fight certainly didn't help, either, causing her to shriek in surprise and whip around quickly. The roots shot from the fog so fast that it was left behind them in little white trails, surrounded them like a cage, and leaving no room to run.

"I caught you, you little shit!" Kil'sha bellowed, appearing from behind the mass of trees. "You think you can just run forever!? That you can just hide from me? _IGNORE ME!?_" The druid's voice had turned vicious and threatening, echoing through the forest loudly. The roots descended, attempting to grasp both Drakkon and Faiyte. Drakkon did his best to use his claw to fight them off. It worked, for a short time. Though for ever one root he was able to cut down, three more rose from the fog to replace it. As Kil'sha became impatient, they grew more ruthless. One quickly snapper around Drakkon's ankle, yanking him quickly off the ground and rushing through the air to hang him in front of Kil'sha. Much like the way Faiyte had been, although much less restrained. Drakkon took the opportunity to twist around, swinging his claw right at Kil'sha's face. The druid moved quickly, however, and the claw only managed to nick his horn. Kil'sha growled at the outburst, focusing on Drakkon in a glare.

"Well, that thing has just become a complete nuisance, hasn't it?" He hissed. This said, another root shot up from beneath Drakkon to wrap around the mechanical arm. "How well is that thing attached?" Kil'sha chuckled as the root tightened itself. The one around Drakkon's ankle remained in place, therefore causing the roots to stretch Drakkon, length-wise. "Will it come off, first, or will it tear _you_ apart?" Drakkon struggled against the roots, attempting to twist the claw around to sever the one holding it. Kil'sha's snickering was interrupted by a decent sized rock, that flew through the air and hit the druid in the stomach. It wasn't enough to do any damage, but it certainly grabbed his attention. She couldn't be that foolish, could she? Drakkon moved, looking back towards Faiyte, who was rooting around beneath the thick fog for another rock to throw.

"Faiyte!" Drakkon called. "What the hell are you doing!?" He scolded. Kil'sha laughed, amused by her attempts. "Wake up! Get out of here!"

"And let the giant elk druid literally tear you in half? That sounds like something I would do." Faiyte huffed, getting to her feet, clenching two more rocks. One of which, she threw at Kil'sha. One of the roots easily rose, however, to hit it back, midair.

"How fun!" Kil'sha laughed. "Go ahead, throw another!" He suggested. Drakkon looked back to him momentarily. His focus was completely on Faiyte in amusement. Drakkon moved, struggling to free his claw. Faiyte seemed to notice this, and continued to throw rocks at Kil'sha as a distraction. After a while of attempting to free himself, it was clear that the root was far too entwined around his mechanical arm for him to be able to do so. And, it was around this time, that Kil'sha's initial amusement faded. "Alright. That's about enough." He said, and a root shot up to twist around Faiyte's torso, pulling her up from the ground to bring her in front of Kil'sha, as well. She didn't scream, as it happened. In fact, she seemed to have been expecting it.

"Drak!" She called, gaining his attention before tossing something towards him as she passed. Drakkon quickly moved to catch it. Whatever it was, she obviously thought it important enough to subject herself to the roots. It was a rather flat, slightly pointed rock. Kil'sha noticed this, and made an attempt to snatch it. Drakkon was faster, however, driving it into the root holding his claw as deep as he could. The root reacted immediately, though not in a way that was entirely beneficial. As it was entwined with the metal, when it reeled in pain, it snapped through a few places. Drakkon swore loudly. Not again. Though the resulting shower of sparks was enough for the root to withdraw completely. And, even, the one around his ankle swiftly fled from him. This bright flash also caught Kil'sha's undivided attention, however. He set after Drakkon as the mage hit the ground, lashing with his own claws and setting an onslaught of dangerous hoof kicks that had Drakkon dodging, ducking and rolling out of the way quickly. There was just too much coming at him, at once. His claw remained sparking and, although it was painful, if proved to be effective in fighting off the roots that came after him. In the process of dodging Kil'sha, he was able to hit the root holding Faiyte, causing it to release her. This angered Kil'sha more, and his flurry of attacks became more vicious.

"What now!?" Faiyte asked, scattering away from roots and Kil'sha's attacks. Thinking quickly, Drakkon latched onto her as she passed him, using his claw to send a shock through her. It worked. She gave a sqeak of shock and pain, then she seemed to disappear. She'd woken up.

"Damnit you little pest!" Kil'sha growled, striking out. As he did so, Drakkon managed to grab lock his claw around Kil'sha's wrist. The druid howled in surprise, jumping back. This idea worked, as well. The shock was enough to cause a lapse of control, and Drakkon was released from the nightmare.

As he came back into consciousness, he shot out of bed. He didn't want anything to do with laying down or even thinking about sleeping, at the moment. His arm was still sparking slightly, though it had slowed quite a bit. Faiyte was leaning back against the wall, apparently sharing Drakkon's view of the bed, at the moment. She looked completely terrified, staring at the mattress, which held a few blood spots. Of course, Drakkon was immune to this sight. He was used to waking up with much worse.

"Faiyte?" He tried, after a moment to calm himself. She'd hadn't moved. At him saying her name, however, her wide eyes snapped to him.

"What the hell!?" She demanded, voice a bit high pitched in stress. "So... So that was all _REAL_!?"

"As real as it gets, yeah." He nodded.

"And I could have really died in there!? What the hell was that place!? Who, exactly, was that!?"

"It's a very long, complicated story." Drakkon muttered. "Let's just assume that was a one time thing.. You being pulled into it, I mean. We don't have to go into detail about all that mess.."

"Drak! I was just in your damn nightmare! Where I could have been killed by some insane enemy you've apparently made!" Faiyte was slightly hysterical, and she still hadn't moved from her place, pressed back against the wall, looking as though she might be stuck there. "I _deserve_ a damn explanation and as much information as you can give me!"

"Faiyte? Dearie, are you still home?" Faiyte's face became even paler, at the sound of her mother's voice. Drakkon, too, froze. Drakkon and Faiyte's arrangement had always been careful enough that they always made sure Elnoir, Cypress, and Evangelin were going to be out of the house. And they'd usually began their way back to the Vanguard before the three of them even returned home. "Faiyte, I know I said it in question form, But I could hear you. I know you're in there." Elnoir was saying, coming up the hallway. Faiyte moved like lightning, then, dashing for the door and leaving the room, closing the door behind her. He could hear them speaking just outside the door, and he quickly tried to come up with a solution as he pulled his armor over his clothes. If his claw wasn't broken, he'd have simply been able to teleport himself into Dalaran. It was when he considered simply going out the window, that the door opened, again.

"Drak. She knows you're here." Faiyte said as she came back into the room, looking defeated. At this, he gave a glance back to the door. "She wants you downstairs. I need to get ready. We _will_ talk about what happened."

"Why?" He asked, after a pause in watching Faiyte cross the room to gather up her things and armor to change.

"Because I deserve to-"

"Why does she want me downstairs?" He clarified. "Can't I just, you know, leave?" He tried. She smirked slightly.

"Are you afraid of my mother, Drak?" He scowled a bit. "Just go down there, talk to her.. She'll probably force you to eat breakfast..." Her tone wasn't convincing.

"Yeah. That's what will happen." He muttered.

"You have to stay here to fix your arm, anyway." She sighed. "Just get this over with. She'll end up coming down to the Vanguard to talk to you if she has to. Just get it over with." The sad part is that it was the truth. Elnoir was stubborn and determined enough that she probably would chase him down. This thought in mind, he reluctantly left the room to head downstairs.

"The robot is here!" Cypress called out from the sitting room, as Drakkon came into view. Well, that was just great. Elnoir looked up, from her place rooting around in the kitchen, giving Drakkon a once over before focusing on Cypress.

"Cy, why don't you go play outside with your sister for a bit, alright?" At this, Cypress gave a huff.

"But-"

"Cypress." Elnoir said sternly. "I need to speak with Drak, a moment. Please." Cypress gave a defeated sigh, then rose from the couch to head outside. As he did so, Elnoir looked back to Drakkon, pointing to the chairs at the kitchen counter. "Sit." He began to argue, but the look in her eyes caused him to stop.

"What exactly has Faiyte told you?" He asked, reluctantly taking a seat.

"What I needed to know." She said, watching him in a rather scrutinizing way.

"And, clearly, you don't approve. That's what the point is going to be, isn't it?" He rose a brow. "So can we just skip over this, and I'll leave?"

"It's not quite that simple." Elnoir said, shaking her head. "This is my daughter we're talking about. She's already been through enough, she certainly doesn't need more complications. And, she seems to think there won't be any.. That she has it entirely under control, but that's what she thought, before." Elnoir paused. "From what she's said, you two aren't.." She trailed "But even if it is as detached as she says it is, your kind have a tendency to ruin everything in your path.."

"My kind?"

"Death knights." She clarified. "My father, my husband, and my daughter have all been part of the Crusade. I've spent my life hearing stories about death knights, and just how evil they can be. Faiyte has dealt with enough evil, through her life."

"And what 'evil' has she gone through?" He asked partly for curiosity. Though, mostly, he asked because he doubted it could compare to the things he, himself, had seen. Elnoir looked ready to answer, but Faiyte came in, interrupting.

"Mother. Don't you dare." Her tone was completely serious and, after saying it, she gave Drakkon a quick, disapproving glance. "As far as all this goes, I am an adult, I can make my own decisions."

"What happened the last time you didn't listen to me?" Elnoir seemed upset, and her words only made Faiyte glare.

"That was different. Now, we're already late. We have to go." She gave a quick motion for Drakkon to follow, then started straight out of the house without another word. Not wanting to get caught in a verbal row with Elnoir, Drakkon quickly tailed after. He waited as Faiyte said a quick goodbye to her children, then the two started through the city. "Seeing as how your arm is.. Well, out of commission, we'll have to go through Stormwind to get into Northrend." Faiyte announced.

"Or, I could stay and _fix_ it." Drakkon tried. Stormwind wasn't the best idea, for him.

"We're already late." Her tone was still cold, and it seemed unwise to argue. Though,he'd rather deal with Faiyte being angry, then having Stormwind chase him down, again, and blow his cover, in the process. He stopped as they neared the portal to Rut'theran Villiage. Faiyte noticed this immediately, and looked back to him in exasperation. "What?"

"I'm going to fix my arm, and go through a portal to Dalaran." He announced, unwavering. Faiyte scowled a bit.

"I will drag you through to Rut'theran, damnit!"

"Try it." He dared, and she huffed.

"What the hell is your issue with Stormwind!? I mean, I don't like the city, either, but it's faster than waiting for you to fix that thing!" She said. "And you still have to explain that insane nightmare to me!"

"Like I said, don't worry about it. It shouldn't happen to you again."

"But it _will_ happen to _you_?"

"Not if I don't sleep. The problem is resolved."

"No it isn't! Why the hell are you so stubborn!?"

"I could ask you the same thing, you know." He said pointedly. "If you get to keep secrets, then so do I." She was silent for a bit, watching him.

"Why does it matter to you, what I've been through?" She asked. "I have valid reasoning to be interested in this nightmare business.. Considering it nearly _killed_ me.. but you have no reason to pry into my past."

"Actually I do." He said. "Considering that it apparently automatically makes me the bad guy, in your mother's eyes. And, i'm assuming it's the reason you don't want to be left alone, and you _forced_ me to stay with you. All of this, the nightmare, and your mother figuring things out, if you would just let me _leave_, when-"

"So now we're criticizing the fact that I don't like to be left alone!?" She glared.

"No, it's not that you don't _like_ to be left alone, it's that you're _terrified_ of being left alone."

"You would be, too!" She hissed. "If you had someone you _though_ you could trust, turn into a damn _monster_ and break into your home to _kill_ you! If the only reason you had the strength to fight back and survive, at all, was knowing that there was someone else in the damn house that you had to protect!" She shot. "After something like that, you prefer to have someone around. Anyone, it doesn't matter.. Especially knowing that same bastard that tried to kill you is still alive and well, perfectly capable of breaking out of prison and coming after you, again, whenever the hell he sees fit!" She paused, taking a few breaths to calm herself as a few passers by started to look on in curiosity. "This is neither the right place nor the right time, for this conversation. But, considering this nightmare just happened this morning, instead of four years ago, I think I deserve some insight."

"Fine.. What, exactly, do you want to know?" He asked. He was reluctant to talk about it, knowing there were several details that could give away who he was, but she _did_ have the right to know.

"First of all, how long has this been going on?"

"Decades. Next question." He answered shortly.

"The druid.. Why does he want you dead?" This one was a bit of a struggle.

"I knew him, when he was alive. We didn't get along well." He tried, and Faiyte crossed her arms. It wasn't good enough.

"I thought we agreed a while ago that you wouldn't try to bullshit me."

"I tortured him." Drakkon said outright, and Faiyte's scowl twisted in a bit of shock. "He hurting my mother, he was apprehended, and I tortured him for it. Once he died, the nightmares started. I was thirteen." Faiyte took a moment, then nodded.

"So.. He's dead?" She asked.

"Technically." Drakkon said. "This was all just recently explained to me, in a way that made even the slightest amount of sense."

"By who?"

"A druid I know."

"A living one?" She rose a brow. Drakkon nodded. "I want to talk to him." At this, Drakkon faltered. "Where is he?"

"I don't know." He tried.

"Drak! Don't lie to me!" Faiyte frowned, and Drakkon sighed.

"He mentioned living in Stormwind." He reluctantly answered, and Faiyte gave a look back towards the portal. "Can't you just go, yourself?"

"Will he talk to me, if you don't go?" She asked. Drakkon cursed, starting past her for the portal. It was quiet, for quite a while, as they waited at the docks, each lost in their own thoughts. Drakkon was busy trying to route Stormwind's layout in his mind, attempting to find the best route to take, where he wouldn't be noticed. Either way, it was a great risk to even step foot into the city. Teh again, if the crusade hadn't been told anything about him, perhaps the Stormwind Guard hadn't either.

"These nightmares.." Faiyte suddenly spoke, just as the ship came into view on the horizon. "They're the reason you're so messed up, aren't they?" She was blunt about it, but it's not like Drakkon didn't expect everyone to think he was messed up, anyway.

"Yeah, pretty much." He nodded.


	16. Only More Complications

Drakkon watched with a raised brow as Luka wandered the Vanguard a bit. What was he doing, back in Northrend? Had he fled Stormwind, again? Drakkon couldn't imagine they'd allowed Luka to come here, willingly. The boy spoke with a small gathering of soldiers, and they pointed him in Drakkon's direction. At this point, his curiosity turned to worry. What could Luka possible want? Tsage hadn't told him anything, had she? He couldn't imagine why she would.

"Drak, right?" Luke asked as he stopped before Drakkon. He gave a nod. "Alright, I need you to explain it to me." Luka said, moving around the table and sitting on a crate.

"What, exactly, am I explaining?" Drakkon asked, turning to face the boy.

"The fire." That was a relief.

"I told you, go read up on it." Drakkon said.

"I did!" Luka frowned. "The books explain the spectrum and spell intensity and potency.. But there is nothing I can find about how to make it blue."

"Why does it matter, what color it is?"

"Because it looks cool." Luka grinned, and Drakkon sighed.

"Being a mage isn't about being 'flashy'." He said. "As long as you can cast the spells correctly, and your aim is right, you'll be fine, for your age."

"I don't want to be _fine_." Luka's grin was quickly wiped away as his expression turned to a slight scowl. "I want to be the _best_." He announced, and Drakkon cocked his head a bit. "I want to be able to leave everyone else in the dust, and not have to worry about what I can and can't do, because I'll know how to do it _all_. I want people to know me for how skilled I am, not because I'm the prince. I'm so sick of people looking at me like I'm royalty that needs to be protected and fussed over. I can take care of myself." There was something completely familiar to Drakkon's own desires, as a child. "I've been training since the moment I found out what I was. I won't settle for less than perfection, in my abilities. I've been around to every trainer, learning their techniques. I've even had horde mages brought in, that were willing to share with me. Like Solara." He said, nodding over his shoulder. "Now, you know how to do something that I don't. Something I've never seen before. _Please_, explain it."

"If you read as much as you claim you have, you should know why the blue even exists, in natural fire." Drakkon began. If Luka didn't have an answer for that, it wasn't worth it.

"Lack of oxygen." Luka said confidently. "The fire loses color and heat with how much air it's exposed to." Drakkon gave a slight nod. The kid had taken his advice, after all. "But, by that logic, none of it makes sense." Luka continued. "You can't stop the spells from being exposed.. Especially when they're whipping through the air to hit something.."

"That's what I thought, as well. But it's possible with the right techniques."

"Who taught you?" Luka asked, curious.

"No one." Drakkon replied simply with a slight shrug. "Not that they didn't try. For me, it was all studying and experience. It's better to learn your own way, then try to mimic someone else."

"That requires more free time than I have." Luka attempted.

"So make the time." Drakkon continued. "I assume, from what I've seen and heard, and your interest in this particular detail, that you're planning to specialize in your fire skills?" Luka nodded. "And you've only been reading books based on that?" Another, slightly hesitant nod.

"Should I be reading something else?" He asked.

"You should be reading everything." Drakkon said pointedly. "Even if you want to focus on one specific ability. You have no idea how much the others can help you perfect the things you really want to."

"So, the blue fire isn't just a fire spell?"

"Considering you already voiced the problem of exposing the spell to oxygen? What do you think?"

"So, what else is it?"

"Luka.." The voice from behind them was definitely filled with concern, and Drakkon recognized it instantly. He glanced back, raising a brow to Tsage as she came to a halt a small ways away from the table.

"Listen, mum, don't be mad, ok?" Luka tried, getting to his feet. "I met Drak, last time I was here. He's a mage.. Kind of.. And he's explaining things to me. I-"

"Luka." Tsage interrupted, finally turning her gaze from Drakkon to Luka. "I told you Northrend is too dangerous for you."

"But.." Luka tried.

"Don't argue." She said sternly. "Go wait for me by the griffins." Luka gave a sigh, but obediently started across the Vanguard. As he did so, Tsage cautiously turned back to Drakkon. "Drak, listen..." She started, though she was quite hesitant. Drakkon cocked his head a bit, crossing his arms.

"I'm listening." He said pointedly. This seemed to prompt her. She moved forward, to the other side of the table, and dropped her voice a bit to keep them from being overheard.

"To be fair, you showed up trying to kill me." He nodded. "You destroyed Theramore.. Set loose ghouls and.. You know.. Destroyed Dalaran and ran everyone out of Northrend.."

"Which was all directly your fault, anyhow." He added, and she frowned. "So, how was this explained away to Wrynn?"

"He thinks Luka is his.. There was nothing to explain." Tsage said, and Drakkon rose a brow. "Anduin was my fiance, at the time I was in the Citadel." She added, in extra explanation.

"You've got some pretty severe issues with yourself, don't you?" Tsage scowled.

"You don't have the right to judge me."

"Yes I do." He scoffed. "So, you were currently the future Queen of Stormwind.. You decided to cheat on your to-be husband with Wolfe, then go behind both of them with me?" Tsage's frown worsened. "So, how can I be so sure-"

"Luka is _your_ son, Drak." Tsage interrupted. "You and I both know that." At this, Drakkon faltered. He'd assumed, but having it vocalized wasn't settling. "Now, my question is.. What are you going to do about this?"

"Considering that this not only has the potential to destroy my kingdom, but yours, as well?" He said. "I'm stuck between interests, now."

"Can yours really sustain any more damage, at the moment?" She asked. "There will be consequences, if Anduin finds out.. Things will be bad.. But you know as well as I do part of that will be him coming after the Citadel. If he finds out, Wolfe finds out. You already said Wolfe would rebel, and take your forces with him. If the mass majority of them are already against you... " She was trying, rather desperately, to convince him to keep quiet. Drakkon rolled his eyes.

"I never said I was going to say anything." He clarified. "Karma will catch up with you, though. I sincerely hope this all blows up in your face, somehow."

"How kind." She glared.

"Always."

"You do realize, if word of this breaks out.." She paused. "Valeah is in Stormwind now, correct?" Drakkon uncrossed his arms, leaning forward onto the table, the look in his eyes turning rather deadly as he locked them to hers.

"If this is you daring to threaten her, know that I will come through Stormwind with every force I still have and destroy everyone and everything in my path in order to get to you and rip you limb from limb." He snarled. The vicious malice and seriousness in his tone clearly shocked Tsage. "Don't think that the fact my forces are currently weakened will alter that. If _anything_ happens to Valeah, I _will_ kill you." At this, Tsage could only give a small nod. "Now would be a very good time for you to leave." Tsage took the advice, turning and walking off without another word. As she did so, Wolfe hurriedly rushed over, looking worried. Had he been listening? Drakkon quickly stood straight, looking to Wolfe in a bit of concern.

"What the hell was that?" He asked. "She looked terrified, what did you do?" He didn't know. Thank Elune, he hadn't heard.

"She had the nerve to threaten me, so I did the same." He shrugged.

"Drak, she's the Queen of Stormwind.." Wolfe sighed. "And you're currently infiltrating the Argent Crusade. You probably shouldn't threaten her."

"Stay out of it." Drakkon said. "I have my leverage."

"What leverage?"

"I said to stay out of it." He looked up, noticing Faiyte's griffin fly in. He hadn't seen much of her, since she'd vowed to fight Kil'sha. Apparently, his refusal to help her had angered her more than he thought. Though, he still had no desire to willingly fall asleep, knowing Kil'sha would take every opportunity to tear him apart. Still, he didn't think she would stop talking to him completely. He was slightly concerned to find how much that bothered him. He didn't actually miss her, did he?

She landed, handing the reins to the griffin master, then immediately heading into the main building. Drakkon hesitated, then started after her. He told himself it was for curiosity sake. To see if she really was still being pulled into Kil'sha's nightmares. To see if she was actually trying to fight him and, if so, how it was going. Just as he reached the building, Faiyte came out, starting off, again, before he caught her attention.

"Faiyte." He called, stopping her. She turned, seeming a bit shocked that he had approached her.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" He asked. Faiyte said nothing, just motioned for him to follow as she started through the Vanguard. She lead him behind a building, away from everyone, then rounded on him.

"How the hell did you manage to deal with this!? I can't sleep! Not even a little, Drak! It's like he's waiting for it! And not being able to sleep has sent my stress level to an all time high! I feel sick all the time, I can barely keep my eyes open... I can't focus on anything!"

"So, fighting him isn't going well, then?" Drakkon rose a brow, fighting the urge to say 'I told you so'.

"Nothing I do matters! If I can't use my abilities, I can't properly fight him! And he has the entire forest at his will, he can do whatever he wants.. And the damn images he can create.. it's like he's taking over my mind!" She paused, glancing around. "I mean, he's made me think I was in entirely different places, before.. He's made my dreams turn into area's I actually _go_. Like here... It's gotten to the point where I don't know what's real, anymore! I could be asleep right now and I wouldn't even know until something twists and tries to kill me!" She was, understandably, quite hysterical. "And he's gotten my memories on beck and call! He can twist around anything and use it against me!" She paused. "This was an awful idea... Now that I actually tried to fight him, he won't leave me alone.."

"I did try to warn you." Drakkon said, and she snapped her focus back to him.

"And I tried to get you to help me." She said. "But you _refused_, so I had to try it on my own. You behaved like a damn child." He glared.

"And ignoring me for two weeks because you didn't get your way is a completely adult decision?"

"Why? Does that bother you?" She smirked slightly. His glare worsened. "I've been busy, Drak. You know, fighting the nightmares. Pardon if I thought it wouldn't matter to you, if my focus changed."

"It doesn't." He lied. And he knew it was a lie as he said it. This disturbed him. "The potions I use will keep you awake, without making you feel overly tired." He quickly changed the subject. "But, like you mentioned before, you _need_ sleep. So you will have to either figure out a schedule or sleep in a place that will naturally wake you up, every now and again." As he spoke, he was making his way back into the Vanguard, towards his station to retrieve one of said potions, Faiyte following after. Though, as they moved around the building, Wolfe smirked and started over.

"So... What's going on?" Wolfe asked as he reached them. He rested an arm around Faiyte's shoulders, leaning on her a bit and causing them to stop. Faiyte sighed, giving Drakkon a pointed look. He only gave a shrug.

"Wolfe." She huffed, tilting her head to look up at him.

"Yes, gorgeous?" He grinned.

"Stop it." She said.

"Come, now.. How much longer do you need to keep up this cat and mouse game? You don't have to play 'hard to get', anymore." At this, she heard Drakkon snicker a bit, and she shot him a glare.

"You know what?" Faiyte said, looking back to Wolfe. "You're right." She turned, running her hand over his chest and grinning up at him. Wolfe looked a bit surprised, and Drakkon's amusement quickly faded. "I can't hide it anymore. I've wanted you from the moment we met." Faiyte continued. "You know, the inn probably has a free room.. You're not busy, are you?"

"Alright, what the hell are you trying to prove?" Drakkon finally spoke up, earning both their attention.

"A point." Faiyte shrugged with a victorious smirk, moving away from a now confused Wolfe.

"There is no _point_." Drakkon said. "All you're doing is giving him _more_ of a reason to chase after you."

"But it doesn't bother you, right? What do you care?" Faiyte huffed.

"I don't! _You're_ the one that cares." Drakkon argued.

"Yeah, well, how do you know that wasn't the truth, just then? Maybe I _have_ just been playing hard to get with him, all this time!"

"Then why would you come to me complaining about him?"

"It was part of the game!"

"What the hell is going on, exactly?" Wolfe tried, looking between the two.

"Stay out of it, Wolfe, this has nothing to do with you." Drakkon shot.

"But she said-" He began.

"Don't yell at _him_, just because _you're_ the one that has a problem with this!" Faiyte interrupted, crossing her arms.

"_You're_ the one with problems!"

"Don't you dare bring _crazy_ into this! I have a lot more ammo than you do!" She said pointedly. "Admit that it bothers you, or Wolfe and I have a room to get to." At this, Wolfe looked from Faiyte to Drakkon a few times.

"What bothers him!?" Wolfe asked. When he didn't get his answer, he turned his attention to Drakkon. "Are the two of you.. You know?" He tried, switching his language in attempt to keep Faiyte from the conversation. This action only caused Drakkon to huff in annoyance, however, looking to his brother.

"She's in the Crusade, you idiot. She can understand orcish." He said. Wolfe looked to Faiyte, then, and she gave a nod.

"Oh, well... Are you?" He repeated, raising a brow to Drakkon.

"No." Drakkon snapped.

"So, what's the problem?" Wolfe asked, clearly confused.

"Nothing at all." Faiyte said, gaining Wolfe's attention as she motioned for the inn. "Let's go." She offered in a calmer, more seductive tone. This caused Wolfe's grin to come back, and he moved to take a step towards her.

"You touch her and I will drag you back to Fleshwerks, tear you limb from limb and use your parts for a fresh set of abominations!" Drakkon growled. The language he'd switched into was clearly one Faiyte didn't understand. She stood, shocked and confused as she looked between the two. "Stay away from her." Drakkon said, a rather dangerous tone to his voice that Wolfe knew to take seriously. He gave a quick nod, taking a step back from Faiyte, who still looked a bit bewildered. As he did so, Drakkon turned, leaving the pair and grumbling to himself in the same strange language. Faiyte watched after him, then rose a brow to Wolfe.

"Sorry. I'll have to decline." He tried.

"What language was that?" She asked.

"Would you believe it was a language we made up as kids?"

"Not even in the slightest." She said. "He hates you too much for you two to have your own secret brother language." She said pointedly.

"True." He nodded.

"I swear I've heard that before..." She breathed, thinking to herself. At her comment, Wolfe looked a bit worried. It worsened as he noticed a realization cross her face, and she immediately looked to Wolfe. "I have! Around Fleshworks and Aldur'thar!" She exclaimed. "It's the language the cult of the damned use!" She said. "Scourge language!"

"Well, he is a death knight." Wolfe tried. "He must have picked it up.." He shrugged, attempting to sound convincing.

"And you understand it?" She asked.

"He tends to use it when he gets.. Really mad.. Which is often.. So I kind of learned from that." He tried. "Enough to understand most of it."

"And.. He can speak it fluently?" She asked, casting a glance after the direction Drakkon had gone.

"Yeah.." Wolfe nodded. Faiyte said nothing else, only set off in search of Drakkon, leaving Wolfe behind to wonder and worry.

"I don't want to hear it." Drakkon said as Faiyte approached.

"You can speak the scourge cult language." She stated. He immediately looked to her, carefully trying to judge her expression. She knew it?

"Wolfe told you that?" He asked.

"I've heard it, before. I _am_ in the Crusade. I've been around it." Wonderful. What was he supposed to do about this? "Wolfe _did_ say that you have a perfect understanding of the language." She continued. "Right?" He hesitated, but gave a small nod. Her reaction wasn't what he had been expecting. She smiled, rather widely, and leaned forward on the table in a slightly excited manner. "Teach me."

"What?" He rose a brow. This was not, at all, what he'd thought would happen.

"Teach me." She repeated. "Their language." She clarified.

"...Why?"

"Don't you see how _useful_ this is!?" She exclaimed. "If the Crusade could understand the cultists? Speak their language!? We could know about _any_ of the scourge plans, infiltrate their ranks.. Maybe even get into the Citadel, itself!" It would ruin everything even more. "We could win this! Render them completely obsolete!" Faiyte's grin widened. "You have to teach me!" Drakkon struggled. If he refused, it would all but _prove_ the fact that he was involved with the scourge. But, if he agreed, the one and only defense they had against outsiders learning more about them would be lost.

"Fyrelilly!" There was a call from across the camp, and Faiyte gave a sigh.

"Listen, we'll talk later." She said, standing straight. "Trust me, I'm a fast learner. I won't take much of your time." She added, before heading off. Once she was out of earshot, Drakkon swore, leaning back against the wall.

"What happened!?" Wolfe asked as he quickly rushed over. "Does she know? Do we have to leave? Why are you just standing there!?"

"She wants me to teach it to her." Drakkon muttered.

"Alright, we have to go." Wolfe said. "Come on, it was a nice try, but it's seriously time to go back to the Citadel now."

"What?" Drakkon asked, looking to him "She doesn't know anything, yet."

"_Yet_." Wolfe repeated. "But she'll figure it out when you refuse to teach her. Then we would be lucky to get out, alive.." Wolfe paused, watching Drakkon in a bit of concern. "You _are_ going to refuse to teach her... Right?"

"I don't know."

"Drak!" Wolfe scolded.

"I haven't had time to think it through, yet." Drakkon said.

"What is there to think about!?" Wolfe sighed in exasperation. "If you _do_ teach her, the entire kingdom falls!" He paused, frowning when Drakkon still seemed to be contemplating. "What is _seriously_ going on between you two?"

"Nothing." Drakkon said firmly, glaring to Wolfe. "I'll have to figure out a way to fool her." He said, continuing on their previous subject. "Pretend to teach her.. Or do so as slowly and inefficiently as possible, until she either forgets about it or gives up.."

"She's too smart for that." Wolfe tried.

"I'm smarter."

"I'm beginning to doubt that." Wolfe huffed under his breath. Drakkon heard it, however. He stood straight, glaring dangerously to Wolfe, who quickly backed up. Wolfe had free range to mock anything about Drakkon, except for his intellect. It was the one area of pride the mage had.

"I will think of something." Drakkon said pointedly. "In the meantime, try not to screw anything up. We aren't leaving, yet."


	17. Distracting the Druid

It was getting far too busy. The Crusade had begun their previous goal of eradicating the scourge, on top of securing more bases and drawing in more reinforcements. The adventurers that traveled to Northrend were becoming just as equal a pain. They ran errands for the Crusade, depleted resources, and started riots wherever they tread. Faiyte hadn't forgotten or let up on her determination to learn the scourge cult language and, without much other choice, Drakkon had to give in and begin to teach her. This only caused him more stress, and gave Wolfe something more to complain about. The paladin was still attempting to force Drakkon back to the Citadel, and it was getting increasingly annoying the more he tried. Luka was still returning to the Vanguard on a regular basis, despite knowing all those against the idea of it. The young mage was bound and determined to learn his class skills from Drakkon, who had clearly caught Luka's attention on the subject. Though, Luka didn't seem to know anything he shouldn't. It was still an added stress, however.

Drakkon also had the creeping suspicion he was being watched. Though he usually felt this way, due to his natural state of paranoia, it had gotten worse. He was seeing quite a few faces appearing around the Vanguard, quite often. They thought they were being discrete.. Actually, they probably _were_. Drakkon just had a sixth sense about situations such as those. He'd learned to be able to pick up on clues and pay attention to his surroundings enough to notice. Though, these assorted individuals hadn't done anything, yet. If they were watching him, that was all they were doing. He assumed Tsage was behind it, since she, herself, hadn't been around much, other than to fetch Luka. On top of all this, Drakkon was still struggling with Kil'sha, who had become even more dangerous and ruthless since Faiyte had become involved. After getting used to being able to sleep, again, the lack of it only caused Drakkon to be on edge the majority of the time.

In the case of Faiyte, herself, she'd taken to relying on the potions quite heavily. She'd abandoned her plans of trying to fight the nightmare druid, and was refusing to let herself sleep, at all. This, of course, wasn't a good strategy. Being among the loving, she _needed_ sleep. If she didn't allow herself any, at all, she was risking her safety even more. Not only did it deplete her both physically and mentally, but it was bound to end up in the trouble of simply passing out. At that point, she would practically be serving herself up to Kil'sha on a silver platter, being weak and nearly impossible to wake. Though, whenever Drakkon tried to reason with her, to get this point across, she denied it, claiming she had stronger will power than that. It wasn't a question of willpower, and deep down Faiyte had to know that. She was simply scared and stubborn. The least she could do was recognize the information he gave her as a form of advice, instead of an order. He was trying to help her. It got under Drakkon's skin. The fact that she was so bullheaded and independent, argumentative and sarcastic.

It annoyed him even more as he began to realize that Valeah may have been right. Anyone else who'd disregarded his attempt to aid them, anyone else who would dare argue with him, or act like they knew better than him.. He wouldn't give them the time of day. He wouldn't worry about their well being or continue to try reasoning with them. There was no other explanation. Valeah had been right. He _did_ care for Faiyte. This was an upsetting conclusion. He had far more important things to worry about. Still, it was impossible to ignore something that just wouldn't go away. Faiyte was always around and, even when she wasn't, she was in his head.

"Drak!" And there she was, again. Faiyte gestured to the gathering of potions, then continued around the table to sit on the crates, behind it. "Do you have any more of those, pre-made?" Drakkon turned, raising a brow to her.

"You do realize, if you keep taking them so often, that you'll build up an immunity.." He tried. "They won't work anymore."

"Then we'll have to figure out how to make a stronger dose. I'm sure you've already foreseen that and done so?" She cocked her head a bit. Drakkon didn't answer, and she smirked with a nod. "Do you have any made, or not?"

"No."

"Is that a real no, or do you just not want to give me any more?" She asked.

"Like I said, you've been drinking them too fast. I do have other work to do, you know." He said, turning back to his table and starting to mix a potion. "So, what's the excuse, this time? What have they got you doing that you need to be awake for, instead of saving you own damn life?"

"I'm just crafting, today." She said. "But it requires concentration." She added pointedly. It was uncommon for the Crusade to ask Faiyte to simply sit at the Vanguard and stock glyphs. Perhaps they'd noticed her lacking. Sleep deprivation would certainly do that. Drakkon fought the urge to voice this, however, and finished the potion he was throwing together. As he did so, he turned back to Faiyte, holding it out. She looked a bit smug and victorious as she leaned forward, took it, and downed it. Of course, if she knew that it was a fake, she wouldn't be acting quite as proud. The potion he gave her wouldn't do anything. He'd made sure to neutralize it, but still feign the consistency, taste and color of the potions she was used to taking. It may have seemed cruel, but it was for her own good. It was his last option .He knew, first hand, the end result of keeping yourself awake, too long. "So, you haven't slept, either?" She asked, finishing the potion and handing back the empty vial.

"Of course not." He said. "But it doesn't matter, for me. I'm dead." He said pointedly.

"Certainly sounds a lot easier." She muttered. She seemed quite serious about the statement, and there was even a bit of longing in her voice. It would be a lie to say it hadn't shocked him. "If my mother wouldn't disown me for willingly becoming a death knight, I might be tempted to take a walk up to the Citadel." There was a bit of silence, then. She couldn't be serious.

"You're delusional." He announced. This caught her attention, and she looked back up to him. She seemed to think for a moment, then shook her head.

"Yeah.." She agreed. "Of course, I didn't man that." She leaned back against the wall the crate was set against, giving a yawn. "Aren't those potions supposed to work faster than this?"

"Like I said, you're taking too many and they're losing their effect." Drakkon lied. Usually, Faiyte could easily and instinctively tell when he was lying, but she was far too tired and removed. She'd believed him. He was a bit stunned that this fact sickened him. "You should go to the inn and lay down, for a while." He suggested.

"No." She shook her head. "I'm not going to fall asleep and let that.. thing.. mess with my mind. I can stay awake." She insisted. "You all but admitted to creating a stronger version.. Where are those?"

"It was just the basic idea of it.. And I don't have the ingredients to make one." Another lie, and that sickening feeling again. "Go lay down for a while, you won't be pulled into it until you're deeper in sleep. You can get at least a half hour in."

"How is a half hour going to help me?"

"You'd be surprised."

"And what if I don't wake up?" She asked, a clear fear rising in her voice. Drakkon paused, thinking.

"What if I sit in there with you?" He asked, nodding towards the inn. "I'll wake you up, when I see it starting."

"What if you don't notice it, in time? And you've got other things to do, rather than-" She began.

"Damnit, Faiyte." He interrupted, catching her full attention. Clearly, his outburst had shocked her. "Stop poking holes in it and take the help. I've dealt with this a lot longer than you have, I'll be able to tell when it starts happening. And we both know I've overstocked anything the Crusade could ever ask me for." He insisted. "Go get some sleep, or you'll end up dead." She gave a submissive nod, still a bit stunned. Drakkon held out his hand, helping her to her feet and gesturing for the inn. They made their way inside and to one of the empty rooms in silence. Faiyte hesitantly crawled into the bed, wrapping the blankets around herself as Drakkon took a seat in a chair in the corner of the small room. This action was apparently enough to prompt Faiyte into speaking.

"Can't you be over here with me?" She tried. Drakkon shook his head.

"There will be much more risk of Kil'sha bothering you, if I am. And, if he does corrupt your dreams, he could pull me in, and then I wouldn't be able to wake you up." He explained.

"But, you'll stay in here, right?" Drakkon nodded. This only seemed to ease her slightly, and she rested back in the bed a bit tense. It didn't take her long to fall asleep, however, from how tired she must have been. As Drakkon noticed her breathing becoming more relaxed, he gave a slight sigh and mentally prepared himself. He leaned back in the chair, rooting through his thoughts about the nightmares, the Citadel, and the problems at hand.

_~You're slacking, boy.~_ Kil'sha's voice rose in his head. _~It was far too easy to work myself in here, this time. It's almost like you've given up.~_ Good, he had the druid's attention. Drakkon quickly blocked the thoughts of Faiyte being asleep from his head. Instead, he focused on keeping Kil'sha's attention by thinking about the issues at the Citadel.

_~So, what _is_ your plan? To simply remain hiding away at the Vanguard while your kingdom falls to shambled around you? Or have you truly abandoned them all?~_ Of course not. It wasn't time to return, yet. _~When is the right time, boy? The longer you wait, the more damage is caused. The more of a failure you become.. The more they will all hate you.~_ His father had it under control. _~Yes, I must admit, as much as I utterly despise the man... He was much better at ruling Northrend than you are. You're a disgrace to the scourge. You're nothing. You're a pathetic excuse for a king.~_ Drakkon grit his teeth. Subjecting himself to Kil'sha's taunts was certainly a trying task. _~You must get that trait from your wretched mother.. Being pathetic and weak.. Things should have played out much differently... If your mother would have just realized the potential we had..~_ Drakkon was entirely sick of hearing Kil'sha speak of Nyteshayde.

_~If it were a perfect world.. Well, Juliet and I could have done grand things.. Destroyed the balance, overthrown the establishment..~_ She would never. _~Of course not. Like I said, she was weak. But if she had.. Your tyrant father would be dead.. Truly dead.. And _I_ would be king! I wouldn't be here, dwelling in the recesses of your subconscious enacting my revenge.. There would be no need for __revenge.. it would be a win win situation, for you and I.~_ Kil'sha could never be king. He was fooling himself to think that would have ever happened. _~Of course I would have been. With your father gone, you still being too young, and everyone looking to your mother as a queen, anyhow.. I know I would have been better than _you_. _I_ wouldn't have let things get as out of control as you have.~_ Kil'sha in charge of Northrend was an unpleasant thought, and it definitely succeeded in sending Kil'sha into a rant. Though, Drakkon was able to spin this around and keep the nightmare druid going for a good few hours. Of course, it could only last so long before Drakkon's thoughts slipped back to Faiyte. This forced Kil'sha to realize she was asleep, and Drakkon had to wake her before Kil'sha pulled her into the nightmare.

"Faiyte." Drakkon said, leaning forward and shaking her shoulder a bit. She woke with a rather violent twitch, and leapt from the bed with fear in her eyes.

"What happened!? Was I.. Was he.. Did it happen!?" She rushed. Drakkon rose a brow.

"If it happened, you would remember it." He stated simply. She took a moment, then gave a nod. She seemed to relax a bit, sitting at the edge of the bed and catching her breath. "Do you feel better?"

"A little." She nodded. "How long was I out?"

"A few hours." She seemed shocked by this information.

_~You sneaky little shit! How dare you!~_ Lovely. Kil'sha was back with avengance. Of course, Drakkon had known his actions wouldn't go without punishment. _~You think that you can just trick me like that!?~_

"Drak? Are you alright?" Faiyte tried. He gave a short, unconvincing nod, getting to his feet.

"I'm fine. Let's go." He muttered. Faiyte stood, moving in front of him as he started for the door.

"No." She said stubbornly. "What is going on? That's the same sort of look you used to get, before. Does it have to do with Kil'sha?"

"It's not important." He insisted.

_~No, not important at all.~_ Kil'sha hissed. _~You've just significantly pissed me off to the point that I WILL get even with you. You think I'm just going to leave you alone, now!?~_

"I don't believe you." Faiyte said, frowning.

"You don't have to believe me." Drakkon shot, more aggrivated at Kil'sha's relentlessness than Faiyte's stubbornness, at that moment. After listening to the nightmare druid taunt and laugh inside his head, for hours, he simply wanted to flee the room. He moved around Faiyte, heading for the door, again.

_~You think you can get away with it, don't you!? That I'll just let it go and you won't ever have to face me, as long as you don't fall asleep!? You think you can just MANIPULATE me!?~_

"Drak! Damnit I thought we were past this secretive bullshit!" Faiyte called, snatshing his sleeve to stop him, in attempt to get him to face her, again. This made Kil'sha's anger grow, as well.

_~I'M SICK OF THIS_ _ LIGHT DWELLING WENCH! I WANT HER DEAD!~_ Kil'sha roared as Faiyte had snatched Drakkon's sleeve. As he did so, sparks of electricity cracked from Drakkon's claw. Faiyte immediately released him, taking a few quick steps back and widening her eyes in shock. Drakkon immediately looked to the claw, just as stunned. He hadn't done that. _~How convenient!~_ Kil'sha chuckled darkly. _~How do _you_ like being manipulated?~_ It had been Kil'sha's doing? Was the druid able to take control of him, now? That would be a massive problem.

"What the hell!?" Faiyte shot, her shock giving way to outrage. Drakkon struggled, finally looking over to Faiyte.

"That wasn't me." He tried.

"What is that supposed to mean!?" She snapped. "You can't just say that was a damn malfunction, Drak! The only time I've ever seen that thing spark like that was when it was broken, or when you _made_ it!"

"Faiyte, just list-"

"The damn thing _clearly_ isn't broken! So that means you actually _wanted_ to hurt me, just then! Right!?" Faiyte cut him off, and Kil'sha's amused, twisted laughter resonating through his head wasn't helping.

I_ want to hurt her.~_

"Faiyte, I-"

"No! Drak, you can't just-"

"He's inside my head, damnit!" Drakkon announced, a slight snarl to his tone, due to the stress of it all.

"What!?" Faiye seemed confused at the statement, though her anger and shock hadn't faded.

_~Yes, boy.. Try to explain this one.. It should prove to be quite the treat.~_

"Kil'sha!" Drakkon clarified. "He _lives_ in my head! I can hear him. He just sits in the back of my mind, waiting for any opportunity to fuck with me, and it's getting worse. He can pull up memories, make my entire though process go blank.. He almost forced me to fall asleep, a few times. And now he can apparently control my claw. And that's so damn new that I don't even know if it's that _limited_!"

"So.. you _hear_ him, in your head?" She asked, the confusion in her becoming more prominent. "When you're awake?" She asked, a bit of skepticism behind her voice.

_~She doesn't seem to believe you, does she? Shame.~_ Kil'sha's taunts and laughter hadn't stopped echoing in his skull, and Faiyte's refusal to believe him was what pushed it all over the edge.

"Don't you _dare_ start talking to me like I'm insane!" Drakkon shot. "You've _been_ in the damn nightmares! You've _seen_ him for yourself! How can _this_ be too farfetched to believe, now!?"

_~Temper, temper, my dear boy. It would be a pity if you lost it and killed her before _I_ get the chance to..~_

"This bastard has been haunting me since I was thirteen! I've had to deal with this shit for _years_, and I never told anyone because, for the longest time, I thought I _was_ crazy!" Drakkon snarled, unable to control himself.

_~You _are_ crazy.~_ Kil'sha commented.

"Drak.."

"I will not have the only other one who's experienced it for themselves, stand there and act like they don't believe it!" Kil'sha's laughing was getting louder. "I'm _NOT_ crazy! I'm just SICK OF IT!" He growled.

_~That's too bad.. I'm not going anywhere!~_ Kil'sha resounded in his head.

"You have no idea what it's like to have some psychotic bastard reading your thoughts and providing demented commentary whenever the hell he damn well pleases! To have a damn monster living inside your head that control what you think about and when you think about it!"

"Drak! Calm down, I-" Faiyte tied.

"Calm down!? After finding out that he's strong enough to take over!? And I have to find a new way to deal with this new development, and all _you_ can do is treat me like I've lost it!"

_~You HAVE lost it!~_ Kil'sha snickered. _~A long, long time ago, I might add.~_

"SHUT THE HELL UP, DAMNIT!" Drakkon's enraged roar was directed at Kil'sha, and the druid's dark laugh got louder and even more amused. He _had_ lost it.

_~Make me!~ _He taunted.

Suddenly, Faiyte moved forward. Drakkon, wrapped in the dizzying madness Kil'sha had sent him into, hadn't even noticed until she was directly in front of him, a hand on either side of his head. He could feel some form of a warm surge run through his head, and Kil'sha's laughter quickly turned to a wild howl of pain, before his voice disappeared completely. After a moment, Faiyte released him, looking up to him in worry.

"Better?" She tried, and he gave a nod. He moved back tot he chair he'd previously occupied, sitting and resting his head in his unclawed hand, attempting to compose himself. Faiyte watched him, slowly returning to sit on the edge of the bed in front of him. "I don't think you're crazy." She commented, after a while of silence. Drakkon shifted his head to look to her, and she gave a nod of reassurance. "Really." She said. "I was just... With what Tacoon said about the emerald dream, I didn't think it was possible..." She explained. "But, before I met you, I didn't think it was possible for a nightmare to hurt you, either." She paused, giving a slight sigh. "So, you can really hear him, when you're awake? And he can... Control you?"

"That particular part is new... But, yes." He nodded.

"How long has he been talking to you?"

"Since the night I was brought to the Vanguard."

"You know... The night they brought you in, and I had to wake you up..." She began, thinking. "I Felt something dark in your mind. It was like a corruption I hadn't experienced before. At the time, I thought it meant you weren't one of the converted... But now, I think it was Kil'sha." She said. "What if this is my fault? What if I broke him free, when I was trying to get through that darkness?"

"I doubt that." Drakkon said. "So far, you seem to be the only thing that makes him go away. Tacoon says it's the light in you." He explained briefly. "However it was, that he got stronger, it had nothing to do with you." He assured, and she gave a small nod and weak smile.

"So, is this going to happen to me, too?"She asked, after a moment of hesitation.

"No."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I won't let it." He said pointedly. At this, her smile became more genuine.

"Well, I think it's sweet you think you can stop it." She commented, and he frowned.

"First of all, don't call me sweet." He demanded. "And I know I can stop it. You stayed asleep, didn't you?" He asked.

"What do you mean by that?" She rose a brow.

"Like I said, he can read my thoughts. All I had to do was distract him." He shrugged. Faiyte took a moment, looking a bit surprised.

"That's why he was bothering you so badly,when I woke up?" She asked.

"He figured out you were sleeping, and went to pull you into the nightmare. So I woke you up. It passed him off."

"You just let him torture you for hours, so I could sleep?"

"How many times must I explain the fact that keeping yourself from sleeping will, in one way or another, kill you?" Drakkon sighed. "If you'd just listened to me in the first place,and figured out a decent sleep schedule, you-"Drakkon was cut off when Faiyte moved from the bed, quickly closing the small distance between them and pressing her lips to his in a kiss. A real kiss. Not that any of the others hadn't been real, but this one had true emotion behind it. Honestly, Drakkon was quite stunned by it. Faiyte pulled away, looking a bit flushed and embarrassed.

"I'm sorry. "she tried. "I just.. I thought... And you..." She struggled , and he smirked slightly. "Sorry." She repeated.

"Don't be." He said, tugging her forward and causing her to sit in his lap. He leaned forward, taking her lips in another kiss that she gladly returned.


	18. Trust

It was a bit surreal how quickly Drakkon and Faiyte had made the transition into being a rather legitimate couple. Drakkon was more surprised at the fact of Faiyte's willingness, than anything. She'd never shown any type of interest to the idea of it, and had always seemed to prefer the strictly superficial arrangement they'd originally had. She embraced it rather wholly, however. She wasn't concerned with who knew about it, she wasn't shy about showing it, and she had even insisted that Drakkon return home with her, on a nightly basis. After an initial 'worried mother' lecture from Elnoir, he even began to enjoy it.

She had a way of making everything seem better. His original stress over the Citadel, the adventurers, teaching Luka, and seeing those he'd noticed watching him. None of it bothered him, as much as it used to. Even the thoughts and concerns of Kil'sha were pushed aside, until something triggered the druid's anger. Faiyte made Drakkon happy. As rare as the emotion had been for him, in the past, it was the truth.

They'd been sitting on the Vanguard's bordering wall for a while, Faiyte leaning against him as she leafed through a handwritten book. Her notes on the language he was slowly teaching her.

"What about names?" Faiyte asked, tilting her head to look up at him.

"What about them?" He rose a brow.

"Are names the same as they are in other languages, or do they change?"

"It depends." He said. "With specific names, it would stay the same. If the name is also a word, it could get mixed up. Wolfe, for example. His name could be translated to the alternative version of the animal's name."

"So, mine could change?" She asked, and he nodded. "What would it be, translated?"

"Avire." He said, and she scrawled it down with a small smile. "I think I like that more." She snickered. "It's sad when a language derived from such evil can be so pretty."

"Well, maybe it's to make up for the fact that what's being said, in the language, is never _pretty_." He muttered.

"Well, maybe not through the scourge." She shrugged. "Say something... Nice. "She tried with a chuckle, looking back to him. He paused a moment in thought.

"Vas pralli loure,y zio val'zoure ."

"And what does that mean?" She asked.

"That wasn't part of the deal." He smirked.

"I'll figure it out, eventually, you know." She said pointedly, looking back to her notes. "Once I fully understand the language. Don't think I'll just forget." She grinned, turning a few pages. "So, how many different areas of the scourge know this language?"

"All of them." He answered. "But it's hardly used, outside of the cult."

"Good to know." She nodded, and he rose a brow in question. How had that been helpful? She seemed to understand his confusion. "Well, if we do use this to infiltrate... It's useful to know we would look suspicious if we used the language everywhere." She paused. "So, how long were you... A part of all that?" She asked. He took a moment, trying to come up with a believable number, considering everything she'd learned about him.

"Eight years." He finally decided, glancing to her to see If she'd believed it. He seemed to get away with these lies, more often. It still upset him to do so, but it was necessary, at times.

"What was it like?" She tried, genuinely interested. At least she'd believed him."I mean... Well, the things the scourge does...I'd imagine it wouldn't be boring." She said. She even seemed a bit excited, on top of her curiosity.

"You've got a weird thing for darkness, don't you?" He asked, grinning a bit. She gave a slight shrug.

"Perhaps." She said. "But it's harmless. It's a subconscious natural mind-frame. To romanticize the opposite way of life. I was raised by the ways of the light, an instilled sense of justice and having it drilled into my head to be good and pure and helpful... "She said."It was easy for me to yearn for a life without rules or limitations based on my own behavior. To want to live outside the guidelines of the light and do everything the way I wanted, whether that was considered good or bad." She paused, giving a smirk of her own. "But you can't tell me you don't understand it. You being the way you are. You've clearly been through your fair share of darkness." She commented. "So, what does that say about you? Having joined the Crusade, helping our efforts, being with a priest of the light... I may have a part of myself that craves the danger and darkness, but there's also an equal part of you that craves the light." She said. "Am I wrong?" He regarded her for a moment, thinking. He should have seen that coming. That she would be able to twist it around on him. But she wasn't wrong. He shook his head, in answer to her question. "That's good though." She shrugged, closing her book and resting back against him. "At least you have the underlying desire to change things in your life, for the better." She chuckled. "I just want thrills."

"Well, it's not as if you plan to snap and go on a killing spree." He commented. It surprised him a bit when he felt her tense up at the words. It was silent, then, and Drakkon faltered."Sorry." He offered.

"It's.." She began, a bit hesitant. "Kayve. Cy and Eve's father... He took that path," She explained. "At first, he was just trying to keep us fed... Until those he was stealing from started fighting back." She said. "And he just developed a taste for it... He tried to blame it on me, for a while... When I joined the Crusade and had to leave home for weeks at at time. He was convinced, since I'd been getting promoted regularly, that I was sleeping around for it. Because he couldn't just believe that I was good at my job...So he started hunting women and..." She sighed with a small shrug. "He wouldn't stop, so I took Cy to my mothers while he was out." She said. "And he showed up, before the sun come up in the morning, to kill me for it."

"And you say _I've_ had my fair share of darkness?"

"Well... between Kil'sha, your wife dying,having to raise your daughter alone, and getting roped into the scourge... At least mine was just a one time incident that's over and done with." She said. "Having a permanent reminder on my son isn't really ideal, but-"

"That's what happened to Cy?" Drakkon asked. He'd always wondered.

"My mother was trying to pull Kayve off of me. He just thought it was her, again, and he swung his dagger." She clarified. This brought Drakkon's mind to Kil'sha. The way he'd been attacking Nyteshayde in the dungeon cell, and how Drakkon had attempted to stop him with the sword he'd stolen from Arctala. He and Cypress had more in common than he thought. Though, the boy had certainly gotten through it better than Drakkon had."Sorry, for bringing it all up." Faiyte said."Like I said, It's in the past, and it's no longer relevant."

"I'd say it's fairly relevant." Drakkon said."If it wasn't still on your mind, you wouldn't be so untrusting. You wouldn't hide your face, to make sure you're taken seriously for your intelligence, rather than your looks. You wouldn't be so careful about who you let know about your children, and you wouldn't be afraid to be left alone."At this, Faiyte turned to look at him in a bit of shock. "I'm not saying it's bad." He assured." It's who you are. I'm just trying to say that hiding from your past, like it doesn't matter, doesn't make it any easier. The point is to learn from it."

"And I did." She nodded, relaxing back, again, to rest her head on his shoulder. "I've learned a lot. Namely, not to have to depend on anyone, and to be careful of who I choose to trust knowing the real me." She said. "Like you." She cast a quick smile up to him."I can trust you. You're kind, despite acting otherwise, you can keep my secrets to yourself, you're amazing with my children, and you don't lie to me." She listed. "Leave it to me to completely misjudge." She chuckled. "When I first met you, I was certain you were the one person in the world I definitely couldn't trust. Yet, you ended up being the one I actually could."Drakkon felt disgusted in himself, at that moment. She trusted him. She trusted him not to lie to her.

"Drak!" Wolfe calling from the ground below caught both their attention, and they peered over the edge of the wall in question. "Tsage is here! She wants to talk to you!" He announced, and Drakkon grumbled under his breath. What the hell did she want?

"Tsage?" Faiyte asked.

"Devon." He clarified.

"Queen Wrynn?" She seemed surprised. "Maybe it's about Prince Luka. You've been teaching him, after all." Faiyte suggested as she allowed Drakkon up. He hoped that wasn't it. He only gave a nod in reply, before jumping from the wall. Tsage was waiting only a short ways away, talking with Wolfe. As Drakkon reached them, he nodded for Wolfe to leave them alone.

"What?" Drakkon asked, looking to Tsage.

"Hello to you, too, Drak. And thanks for asking, I'm fine." She said rather sarcastically.

"Get on with it." He demanded.

"Why? Are you busy?" She asked, giving a slight gesture back towards the wall Faiyte still sat on.

"Yes, I am." He said. "Is there a damn point to this little visit, other than to piss me off?" He rose a brow. "If so, make it, or I'm going to go."

"First, what the hell are you doing?" She asked. "I mean, with her?"

"Can we get off the subject of Faiyte? It's none of your business."

"Yes it is!" She scowled." You're being a damn hypocrite!"

"A Hypocrite?" He repeated, questioning.

"Yes, Drak! And it's bullshit!" Tsage said, crossing her arms. "How is what you're doing to her any different than what I did to you!?"

"Because I don't intend to do any harm, here." He said pointedly.

"But that was the original plan, right!?" She demanded.

"Plans have changed."

"And how can you be so sure mine hadn't?"

"Because I caught you in the act of leaking information to Wrynn!" He shot."Or do you not remember that? I haven't been back to the Citadel in over a year! Clearly I'm more trustworthy, here!"

"I was planning to stop, after that!"Tsage insisted. "I was done!"

"Yeah, I believe you." He nodded. "Because you definitely proved you can be trusted."

"I have proved it! I haven't told anyone that you're here!"

"Other than the alternating group you have taking shifts watching me, right?"At this, Tsage was left speechless. "Yeah,I thought so." He said. "You must really think I'm on idiot, if you expected me not to notice that." He snarled. "I'd like to see how you react to having a group of Death Knights in Stormwind watching you."

"Don't change the subject just because you don't want to talk about the Priest." Tsage tried.

"What the hell do you care?" He glared.

"I want a legitimate answer for how the circumstances differ!" Tsage ordered.

"Because I actually care about her!"He said, and Tsage Frowned.

"Drak, I-"

"Don't!" He interrupted, rather harshly."Don't even dare:" He demanded. "Are we done, here?"

"I came to warn you that Anduin plans to visit the Vanguard, tomorrow. You might not want to be here." She said begrudgingly. He only gave a nod, then started away. "You're welcome!" She called after, then returned to the griffins.

"So... What did she want?" Wolfe asked, approaching Drakkon as he started past.

"Wrynn is coming to the Vanguard." Drakkon announced.

"Today?"

"Tomorrow."

"Is that all she wanted? She looked... Angry."

"I got a lecture about Faiyte." He offered with a slight shrug. "As if I already haven't got enough of that from you. "He muttered.

"I just can't understand it." Wolfe commented.

"Well, lucky for you, no one's asking you to." Drakkon said, continuing on his way before Wolfe could say another word. Wolfe had been rather relentless when it came to Drakkon's relationship to Faiyte. It was pure jealousy. Wolfe just couldn't believe that Drakkon had been able to get the woman that Wolfe, himself, couldn't. So, Wolfe was prone to rant about the stupidity of getting involved with her, and draw upon wild conclusions as to why Faiyte would even allow it. The greatest and most far-fetched idea Wolfe had come up with, was that Drakkon had used his skills in alchemy to come up with a love potion. This was all because Wolfe couldn't handle the idea of Faiyte actually being interested in Drakkon.

He made his way back onto the wall, heading back to where Faiyte had remained. Something wasn't right. She looked to still. But she was breathing. Had she fallen asleep? The thought of that was enough to panic him. If she had fallen asleep, and Drakkon wasn't distracting Kil'sha, she was in danger. Drakkon quickly moved forward, the worry increasing when he notices a few cuts over her, and shook her awake. It took more effort than it should have, and she seemed to gasp for air immediately after waking, giving an attempt to jump to her feet that, if not for Drakkon's fast actions, would have caused her to fall from the wall. She was near hysterical, her hands running over her arms and legs rather frantically. Though, Drakkon understood this, well enough. The roots had clearly gotten her, in the nightmare.

"It's alright. You're awake." He assured. "What happened?" Hearing his voice seemed to make her realize she was no longer in the nightmare, and she stilled and calmed a bit, forcing herself to regain her thoughts enough to heal herself.

"It happened." She muttered. "I heard him, and he.." She faltered. "It's like he did something in my head, made me dizzy and tired, and I just fell asleep." She explained. Drakkon frowned. It was happening too fast. Kil'sha shouldn't have been able to do that to her, yet.

"Alright.." He began. "You need to make sure you're staying near someone, at all times. Solara should look after you. If she's busy, find Wolfe and tell him I said to look after you." Drakkon said, earning a concerned look from Faiyte.

"Why? Where are you going?"

"I have to go figure something out, and I need to talk to Tacoon." He said. "You were right, it's time we fight back. But I won't do so unless I understand what has to be done." She seemed reluctant, but gave a nod.


	19. The Plan

Stormwind was still as foreboding a thought as ever, but he wasn't left with much of a choice. Since Valeah's move into the city, Tacoon would have no reason to return to the Citadel. Honestly, Stormwind seemed more calming than the Citadel, anyhow. He supposed his best bet of finding the druid was to visit the restaurant, itself. It was just as well. He hadn't thought to take mental note of Tacoon's house, the last time he'd been there. Drakkon couldn't help the shock at the sight of the familiar building. When he'd last seen it, it had been in shambles. Now, after the work Valeah had put into it, it looked just as it had in it's prime. This was both unsettling, but a bit of a relief, as well. What was, without a doubt, the most unsettling thing, was how busy the place was, again. His identity was fairly secret, due to Tsage's efforts at keeping it that way, but he couldn't exactly run the risk. Someone could always have the potential to recognize him, and then all hell could break loose. With a quick spell on himself, to cause him to seemingly fade from sight, Drakkon made his way quickly into he building and through the crowded front room. As he made it into the secluded kitchen in the back, he allowed the spell to drop. This caused Valeah, who'd been preparing a plate, nearly jump out of her skin.

"What the hell!?" She huffed, leaning forward against the table after assessing the situation.

"Where's the worgen?" Drakkon asked, giving a glance back towards the kitchen door, to assure he was out of sight of the dining room.

"He's gone out for supplies. We're running out and we're extremely busy. Why?" She asked, getting back to work.

"I need to talk to him." Drakkon said simply, and Valeah gave a huff in irritation.

"For the same reason you came to talk to him, before?" She asked, giving him a glance. He nodded. "And you still aren't planning to tell me what that is?"

"Trust me. It's better, for you, if I don't. When will he be back?"

"It shouldn't be long." Valeah said. "Any chance you want to give me a hand?" She tried, giving a rather pleading smile as she gestured towards the stove. "The tickets are over there already, so you know what to make." He glanced towards the stove, then gave a small nod, starting over as Valeah hustled to grab up plates and take them out of the kitchen. The kitchen was just as he remembered it, as well. It was easy for him to work his was around and get things started, all the while being reminded of his younger years, living in the place. Valeah returned a while later, carrying dirty dishes, and a few more tickets as she did. She halted at the counter, setting down the plates and looking over the vast progress Drakkon had made.

"How the hell.." She breathed, catching his attention. "Well, I can see why you used to work here." She commented, grabbing up a few of the finished plates and taking them out. She repeated this many times, as Drakkon finished the remainder of the orders, before they finally got caught up and Valeah was able to rest back against the counter. "Alright, so how did mum keep up with it all, before you got here?" She asked, after Drakkon had cleared the pans and taken a seat at the table.

"She was doing this for a lot longer than the time you've been here." He said. "It got to the point where she knew her customers well enough to know what they wanted. And there used to be a window, there, that lead into the dining room." He explained, gesturing to the wall.

"I thought.." Valeah struggled. "Well, I didn't think it would be good for them to see into the kitchen. It doesn't seem like they would want to see me cook."

"Your mother used it when she had busy days like this. When she got overwhelmed and had a lot of cooking to do, she would be able to talk to the customers through it without having to leave the kitchen unattended." He explained. Valeah nodded in understanding, giving a glance towards the area Drakkon had gestured to.

"I'll have to put that back in, then." She commented. At that moment, Tacoon returned, coming through the kitchen doorway with a rather extensive amount of food products and supplies. Valeah moved forward, taking some of it from him and beginning to put it away as Tacoon set the rest on the counter, looking to Drakkon with a bit of concern.

"I need to talk to you." Drakkon announced. This seemed to make Tacoon a bit uneasy, and he gave a quick glance towards Valeah.

"Have I done something?" He asked, sounding guilty. Drakkon rose a brow.

"Have you?"

"Whatever you were talking to Faiyte about, before." Valeah chimed in, still putting away the things tacoon had brought back. "That's why he's here."

"Maybe it's not. What has he done?" Drakkon asked, focusing on Valeah.

"He hasn't done anything." Valeah assured. "He's just afraid of you. Can you blame him?"

"Very well." Drakkon spoke, after a moment of thought. He got to his feet, moving through the kitchen and into the back room, motioning for Tacoon to follow. The last thing Drakkon needed was for Kil'sha to get inside Valeah's head.

"So, what's happened, now?" Tacoon asked, once they were out of the kitchen.

"Faiyte said you mentioned being able to beat Kil'sha." drakkon said, turning to face the druid. "I want to know how that's possible."

"It's more of a cleansing idea." Tacoon said. "The emerald dream is used by all druids. There isn't a separate one for each. If you can manage to destroy the corrupted druid, in the dream, his spirit will temporarily be cleared from the dream."

"Temporarily?"

"Well, yes. No druid's spirit can be blocked from the dream, completely. But his control over it can. As long as there is a druid in the dream available to cleanse it. Another spirit, so the power over the dream would be matched."

"If the power is matched by other druid spirits, and they can use the dream, as well.. Why haven't _they_ done something about him, yet?"

"They can't. A corrupted druid's darkness contaminates a section of the dream, preventing other, pure-hearted druids from entering the area, unless the corrupted one allows it to happen." Tacoon said.

"You said a _part_ of the dream?" Drakkon asked. "I've been through that damn forest a thousand times. It's _all_ twisted."

"Because he follows you." Tacoon clarified. "The corruption follows the druid. If the druid is following you, the corruption goes along with it. I guarantee there's an edge to the darkness you're brought into, when you get pulled in. it's just a matter of being able to get away from the corrupted druid long enough to find it."

"And what's outside the darkness?"

"The true emerald dream. And, if there are other druid spirits around, help. A pure-hearted druid could return the ability for you to use your abilities, which would be the only chance you would stand at defeating a corrupted druid of this one's strength." Tacoon said, and Drakkon mulled it over, in his head. "But your problem will arise with getting past his corruption. Especially id he's hell-bent on killing you. From what you've told me, that's the case." Drakkon nodded.

"Alright, from a purely logical standpoint, the corruption follows the druid, in a set perimeter?"

"Basically, yes." Tacoon nodded.

"So, if Faiyte and I were in there, together.. If one of us distracts him, the other would be able to run out of the corrupted area?"

"Well, yes, I suppose that would work. But that also means only one of you could restore your abilities."

"But she's a priest. You said the powers of the light effect him more than anything, right?"

"Yes, but.. You're saying you're planning to try and hold him off long enough for her to make it out of the corruption, regain her abilities, and come back?" Drakkon nodded. "How do you intend to survive that?"

"I've got a weapon." He said.

"And how effective has that been, in the past?"

"If you've got a better plan then, by all means, tell me." Drakkon shot, irritated.

"I don't see it being possible, without your abilities." Tacoon said. "Faiyte said he managed to break your.. your _weapon_ the last tiem you were in there. What do you plan to do if that happens, again."

"I suppose I'll figure it out, when it happens." Drakkon muttered. This was the end of their conversation and, after heading back into the kitchen to offer Valeah a short farewell, he used a portal to return to Northrend. The plan was, in fact, dangerous. But, what other choice did he have? Upon returning, and taking griffin from Dalaran, he fought with it to fly him towards fleshwerks. If there was any chance for creating a potion to block Kil'sha from taking control over both he and Faiyte, it was there. He had resources, in his own lab, that far exceeded those waiting at his station in the Vanguard. He needed to make certain that Kil'sha couldn't force Faiyte to fall asleep, anymore. The plan was rather dependent on her survival, after all. He did his best to avoid contact with anyone else, as he made his way into his lab. It was still quite disheveled from it's encounter with Luka, but it had been cleaned up to the best of the workers' ability. It just took him a bit longer to work through the unorganized mess and find everything he needed. In the end, all he could come up with was a potion that would work similar to a magic ward. Unfortunately, a side effect of it would be a limit on the ability to cast spells, until it wore off. The potion would have to be strictly for emergency situations, as a result. But it should work well enough at preventing Kil'sha's developing mind control. He made a batch of them, then, finally, started back for the Vanguard.

"So.. You want me to run through the forest of living trees and roots in hopes that i'll find a druid willing to help us?" Faiyte summarized, after Drakkon had explained everything Tacoon had told him, and his resulting plan. Drakkon gave a simple nod. "Well.. Doesn't that sound fun.." She muttered.

"That's the only plan we've got, at the moment." He said.

"Meanwhile I leave you behind to fight for your life against a giant, evil druid..." She continued. "And, if I actually managed to regain my abilities and make it back to you, before he tears you to shreds.. We then have a _slim_ chance of defeating him, and hoping another druid spirit cleanses the place before he comes back, angrier than ever." She paused, giving a sigh. "Alright.. Fine." She shrugged. "I suppose he'll end up killing me, anyway. What have I got to lose?"

"It was your idea, originally, to fight him." Drakkon announced.

"Yes, before he completely turned my world upside down and drove me slightly mad." She nodded. "When are we going to do this?"

"Preferably a time when we would be alone, in the house." he commented.

"I'll have my mother take the children to Stormwind, tonight. The sooner we deal with this, the better, right?"


	20. The Pure of Heart

She ran. Running was what was expected of her, anyway. Though, talk of it made it seem more planned out than it felt, at the moment. The crazed druid, Kil'sha, appeared to be much angrier than he had been, before. Usually, when she had encountered him, it was a sort of twisted, demented _game_. This time, he was practically foaming at the mouth in rage. Even if running _wasn't_ the plan.. Faiyte had no doubt she would be doing so, anyway. Of course, it had taken quite a bit of effort to get away from him. Due to his rather rabid mind frame, when they'd entered the nightmare, he'd gotten a hold of both of them, a good few times, before Drak succeeded in gaining Kil'sha's full attention.

The roots were still desperately chasing after her, however, eagerly twisting and whipping around, trying to grab her in order to drag her back into the chaos behind her. She did her best to run past them, through them, under them and over them. Not everything could be dodged completely. She wasn't foolish enough to think she was that agile. But, she was focusing all her energy in pushing forward. She couldn't let them slow her down, and she couldn't let them grab her. She had a very limited time frame. The fog was still rising around her, doing it's best to cloud her vision in hopes of running her in circles. The trees whipped their branches, as well, stinging her skin and attempting to knock her down into the thorned roots, below. It was a completely chaotic and hopeless mess, but Drak had been right. This was the only plan they had.

She could still hear Kil'sha's echoing snarls, the zaps of electricity Drak was using to fight him and keep him occupied, and the crashing of trees that got in Kil'sha's way. He had no regard in breaking them down, if it became necessary. In fact, one had almost crushed her, before she was able to flee. It was rather surprising to see just how much the root system intertwined together. Even as far away as she was, there were a few traveled jolts of electricity, here and there, that ran through the roots chasing her and caused them to squirm in pain. It was helpful, at first. The shocks seemed to temporarily incapacitate the roots, allowing her to gain ground on them. However, every few moments, one of the roots would flail from the shock, and Faiyte would be in the way.

As a particularly large root was jolted with sparks, it twisted around and Faiyte wasn't able to dodge it quite fast enough. It wasn't able to knock her down, but it did land a rather significant blow to her head. This caused her vision to blur, and she became quite dizzy, the new ailment acting as an accomplice to the fog. Though, there was a bit of light, ahead. A place where the fog didn't roll in shadows, but acted like a blanket before sunlight. This was her new direction. She'd managed to reach the edge of the corruption. The roots chasing her grew more desperate and, with it, more dangerous. It was like they sensed the upcoming purity of the dream, and they were rushing even more to stop the priest as she continued to press on.

One quickly rose to tangle itself around her legs, successfully tripping her and sending her toppling down to the twisting ground below her. Faiyte gave a shriek of surprise and fear, attempting to wrestle and kick them away as she scrambled across the ground. She was nearly there. The roots linked around her waist, squeezing tightly around her ribs and tugging her back towards the dark forest, away from the light. Faiyte snarled and struggled, digging her nails into the dirt and reaching wildly to grasp a hold of anything that wasn't animated by the nightmare druid. She was quite shocked when something grabbed her back. A warm hand, quickly snatching her wrist and tugging her forward, instead of back. The roots struggled against it roughly, digging open the priest's sides as it desperately tightened it's grasp. Faiyte grit her teeth, fighting a wince in pain as she brought her other hand to whatever was aiding her, locking the grip and pulling with them away from the roots.

There was a rather loud crashing and, much to Faiyte's surprise, more roots rushed from the other side of the fog to tangle with those wrapping around her. It was enough to break her free, and she was pulled forward roughly into a blinding, sunlit part of the forest. Faiyte fell forward onto the softer, grass-covered ground as her savior released her, and the priest quickly whipped around to view the madness she'd just been pulled from. There was a rather definitive difference between the corrupted forest, and the one she was in, now. The roots from both sides clashed, tree limbs flailed against each other, and the fog was dissipating as it his the sunlit glade, rolling thinner and thinner over just the first few inches of ground above the grass. At the center of the mass of roots was a night elf the color of lavender, dressed in a flowing white gown with soft violet curls whipping around past her waist as she cast spells to keep the corruption at bay. Faiyte struggled to move against her injury, attempting to stand.

"Stay still!" The elf before her instructed, giving the quickest of glances over her shoulder before focusing back on the forest battle ahead. "They're after you. If you get any closer they could reel you back in. I've got this under control." She announced, commanding the purer side of the forest. Faiyte was obedient, but she focused on her abilities. From what was explained to her, they should have returned upon crossing from the corruption. However, she still couldn't feel the light's presence in her, and her attempts to cast spells failed miserably.

"Come with me." The woman instructed, and Faiyte glanced up to see her extending a hand to help her up, golden eyes filled with deep concern. "The farther away from this mess, the better." She said, taking Faiyte's hand as she raised it and pulling the priest to her feet. Faiyte allowed the woman to lead her further into the glade, until they reached a small pool of water, cradled in a wide stone well. A common night elf structure, easily recognized as similar wells Faiyte had seen in the waking world. The woman helped the priest to sit on the edge of it, then called forth a sort of mist from the well that seemed to envelop them both. As it did so, Faiyte could feel her wounds quickly repairing themselves. Even then, the woman began to cast healing spells over the larger injuries to Faiyte's sides and head.

"You're a druid?" Faiyte asked, once she was able to find her voice. The elf nodded, raising her eyes back to Faiyte's and giving a small smile. "I need your help."

"I know what you've come for." She nodded. "And I'm afraid the help you need doesn't come as easily as you hope."

"Why not?" Faiyte asked, sounding a bit offended. "I was told all I had to do was find a druid in the pure part of the forest, and they would help! Not refuse!"

"I'm not refusing to help." The woman said, her previously calm and warm composure melting into an even more offended tone than the one Faiyte had used. She even looked a bit hurt, at Faiyte's accusation. "I've been trying to help for years, but I can only do so much."

"Years?" Faiyte repeated. "How long have you known about this? Why haven't you been able to help?"

"Because my father is much stronger than I am." She said.

"Your father!?"

"Kil'sha is my father." She clarified. "And, as the only other druid within the emerald dream with a personal stake in this, it's left to me to aid the situation."

"What do you mean, a personal stake in it?" Faiyte demanded. "You aren't on Kil'sha's side, are you!?"

"I haven't been for a very long time." The elf's expression grew a bit somber. "He's changed into something dark and twisted beyond any hope for repair." Faiyte still looked quite confused. "My personal stake in this isn't for my father, it's for Drak." She clarified. "I am Jaimee Darkwing." At this announcement, Faiyte was clearly stunned speechless, and gave a quick glance back towards the corrupted area of the forest. "I know you've come here hoping that I can restore your abilities, so you can fight my father and cleanse him from the emerald dream. I know you seek to destroy him and, at this point, I have no other choice but to agree with you. His presence is harmful to anyone who enters the dream, not only the two of you, and he has to be stopped for peace to return." She said, finishing her healing spells. "However, There is nothing I can do for you, of my own limitations. My father is much stronger than I am, and he has more control than I do. He is older, wiser, and more skilled in the druid ways. Not to mention that he's been here much longer than I have, and has perfected controlling the forest to do his bidding. If I were to restore your abilities, they would simply fail the moment that you cross into his corruption, again."

"So.. There's nothing you can do?" Faiyte breathed, a wave of dissappointment and fear washing over her.

"Not on my own." Jaimee said with a shake of her head. "I would need to call upon other resources and strengths, that I do not have access to, here. The first and foremost being the one weakness my father, and all corrupted druids have. The light." She explained.

"What can I do?" Faiyte asked.

"No." Jaimee shook her head. "This is far above you, dear. Not that you aren't capable of great things, as I can easily sense that you are.. but this requires much more practiced and precise actions from someone who has had more than one lifetime to perfect them." She explained. "You will need to seek out A'dal, in Shatterath City. Explain to the Naaru the situation and he may have the ability to aid you. Though, even then, you may not be able to bring the light back with you, without some sort of vessel for it. Something you wear, would be the most likely to work. A necklace, or a ring." Jaimee explained. This artifact you choose will have to be pure in it's making, to hold in the powers of the light when it's brought into my father's corruption. And it will have to be brought through it to me, so I can further cleanse it with the purity of Elune, allowing it to work as intended, in the emerald dream and in the corruption." Faiyte nodded along, listening intently and being sure to memorize every detail. "When you have the artifact made, which will be the most important act of all, it must be from pure and uncorrectable resources. Clean and free of anything my father may be able to bend to his will and use against you. In order to do this, the materials used for it must be cleansed before they are even crafted, as well as afterward."

"But Kil'sha is able to bend any earth within the corruption to his will, yes?" Faiyte asked, and Jaimee gave a nod. "Both metal and stone are from the earth.. Won't be be able to corrupt it, in any circumstance?"

"This is why we need the blessings on it to be from A'dal, himself. He alone has the power to protect it well enough that you should be able to make it to me, before my father can break through it."

There was more noise from the corrupted area of the forest, and both elves immediately looked in the direction. "There is nothing more I can do for you, until you bring me this artifact. Until then, the two of you need to do your best to prevent yourselves from coming here. The more you escape my father's wrath, the more ruthless it becomes." Jaimee said, earning back Faiyte's gaze, though her own didn't stray from the forest. "Keep in mind everything I've told you, and try to accomplish it as fast as you can." Jaimee said, and Kil'sha's violent and enraged roar echoed through the trees. At this, Jaimee looked back to Faiyte. "Now, get him out of there." She said, moving a hand to rest on Faiyte's shoulder. As she did so, Faiyte's vision went black, for a moment, and she felt the warmth of her home around her. She immediately leapt up, taking hold of Drakkon without a second thought and quickly waking him. He seemed entirely disheveled, and jumped away from the bed as though attempting to assure he was completely awake, and wouldn't fall back into the nightmare. Despite the sound of the fight, as Faiyte had been running away from it, Drakkon didn't look to be injured too severely. He had, apperantly, held his ground rather well, this time. Though, he still didn't seem to be in the best frame of mind.

"What happened?" Drakkon demanded, as he forced his nerves to calm and repeated to himself, in his head, that he was awake and everything was alright. Faiyte looked a bit overwhelmed herself, and struggled a bit to find her voice. Had something gone wrong?

"I made it out of the corruption." She finally spoke.

"And did you find a druid?" He asked, after Faiyte sat in a bit of stunned silence. Faiyte nodded, and Drakkon rose a brow in question.

"Tacoon was wrong. There is a lot we have to do in order to use our abilities in the dream. It isn't as simple as making it past the corruption. We need to have an object, to act as a vessel of light. I've.. I was given instructions on everything that needs to be done but, until then, we need to stay awake." Faiyte explained. "The only way we stand a chance against Kil'sha is if we have an artifact blessed by both the Light and Elune. It's the only way to get past the corruption."

"And where do we get it?" Drakkon asked. Something wasn't quite right. Faiyte seemed far too distracted. "What is it?"

"We have to have it made from purified metals and stones. She said it would be something we wear. Like a ring or a necklace. I'm thinking the latter, so it would be larger, and possibly hold more of the power."

"I'm assuming we can only have one made?" He asked.

"She didn't speak in plural, so I'm assuming not." Faiyte said. Finally, she looked up to Drakkon, a bit concerned. "You said Kil'sha hates you because you tortured him." She said, sounding a bit accusing.

"And you don't believe that anymore?" He asked, cocking his head a bit. What had happened, when she crossed out of the corruption. Did she know something he didn't?

"Was it the truth?" He gave a nod. "So it has nothing to do with the fact that he is Jaimee's father?" There was a silence, then, in which Drakkon couldn't seem to wrap his head around what Faiyte had just said.

"How did you know that?" He finally asked.

"Because I saw her.." Faiyte said cautiously. "Jaimee was the druid spirit I found on the other side of the corruption."


	21. Crashing Down

The Light tends to frown upon the undead. A select few forsaken are able to use it as priests, but that is really the limit of it. The Light especially frowns upon death knights. Therefore it was decided that, when the time came, Faiyte would have to travel to Shatterath alone, to gain A'dal's blessing upon the finished necklace. It had taken weeks to hunt down the correct materials for the creation of it, and even longer to find someone capable of completely purifying them. All through it, trying to block Kil'sha's attempts to drag them into the nightmare through potions and sheer willpower.

Drakkon still couldn't quite wrap his head around the fact that Faiyte had met Jaimee inside the emerald dream. Faiyte had remained certain of it, however. She stated it as an unwavering fact, when Drakkon had appeared skeptical. It was just hard to believe both Jaimee and Kil'sha could exist within the dream, together. It seemed entirely too coincidental, even after Faiyte had tried to explain it to him. In fact, it was hard to believe Jaimee could still exist anywhere, at all. It sounded like an awful thought, but Drakkon had spent years convincing himself that she was gone for good. It flipped his entire thought pattern upside down to learn otherwise, even if she did only exist in the emerald dream. She still existed. There was no such thing as peace of mind, anymore. Not after this. Though, it had been a rare occurrence for Drakkon, anyway.

"It's being crafted in Stormwind." Faiyte announced, as she came to a stop in front of the table. "With the aid of the priests and paladins in the Cathedral." Drakkon said nothing, only gave a short nod. "It may take a while, considering the purification process.." She added. He still gave no true reply. He'd been too lost in his thoughts, lately. "Drak." She tried, earning only a small glance from him. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." It was a lie, and they both knew it. But he wasn't in any sort of mood to talk about the truth. Faiyte sighed, moving around the table and sitting on the edge of it.

"I've been thinking..." She began. "We could go back in there, and I could distract him, this time." She suggested, earning his full attention, finally. "And you could go see her."

"You've lost your damn mind." He muttered, and Faiyte frowned.

"No I haven't." She insisted. "Obviously, its something that should happen. If you won't admit that you need it to happen, at least acknowledge the fact that it would make you believe me. You've been acting like this is all absurd since I brought it up.. I wouldn't lie about something like this.."

"And how, exactly, do you intend to distract Kil'sha and stay alive, in the process?" He asked, a sharper tone to his voice.

"I could figure it out." She said.

"He would tear you apart." He said pointedly. "Without the use of your spells, you're nothing more than a bug, compared to him."

"A bug?" She glared, offended. "Honestly, Drak, I would be able to handle myself. There's no reason to be an ass, when all I'm trying to do is help you."

"What you're trying to do is kill yourself." Drakkon said. "He would destroy you in an instant."

"Drak! I-" Faiyte stood, growing angrier at Drakkon's defiance.

"Stop, Faiyte!" He ordered. "If you want to think this will help then I obviously can't stop you. But it doesn't mean that I'm going to go along with it. This plan of yours isn't going to fix anything. It isn't going to make anything better, or put peace to it, or whatever it is that you're thinking it will do. I was forced to deal with her mortality, already, and going there to talk to her while you throw yourself at Kil'sha's mercy, or lack, thereof, will not change a damn thing. She is dead, and you're alive. I'm not so far gone that I don't realize _that_ is what's important, here." He said. "Going there is not going to change what happened to her, it will only put _your_ life in a danger that it doesn't need to be in. What _needs_ to happen, is getting this necklace and destroying Kil'sha. That is where the focus needs to be." Faiyte had calmed a bit, through this, and took a moment in silence as she realized he spoke the truth.

"I just wanted to help." She finally said.

"You can't." Drakkon said simply. "And we're done talking about this. " The way he'd said it left no room for argument, and Faiyte gave a small nod in understanding. After a moment, she moved forward, sitting in his lap and resting her head against his shoulder. Occurrences such as this had ceased to bother him, for the most part. She had adapted the habit of doing so, often enough, that he'd been forced to deal with it. There was still a large part of him that despised being touched, but she'd managed to work her way around it, somehow.

"So, I've been meaning to ask you something.." Faiyte spoke, after a while of sitting in silence. She seemed troubled. This couldn't be good.

"What?"

"Well, with everything I've learned about the whole situation.. About Kil'sha, I mean.." She began. "According to what you said, about how long you've been dealing with it. How you spent years without sleeping and all.. And Tacoon explained how the light prevented it for a while so.. I mean, that's what started all of it, right? Because, with me, you were able to sleep?" She asked, glancing up to him. To this, he gave a rather cautious nod. "So, once we defeat Kil'sha and eliminate him as a threat, you'll be able to sleep whenever you want." She continued. "And you won't need me, anymore. So, there'll be no reason to.." She trailed

"I don't need you, _now_." Drakkon had said it without thinking, and Faiyte quickly sat up, looking to him in a bit of shock. "Meaning that he can still pull me into the nightmare, whether you're there or not." He clarified.

"That's not.." She faltered. "Listen Drak, you know what I'm saying.. Could you just-" She stopped short as a drake landed, rather heavily, in front of Drakkon's work station. Considering it was nowhere near the allotted landing space, it was a bit curious. Until, that is, they saw who was flying it. Wolfe looked stressed, which was even more strange. He leapt from the drake's back hurriedly, focusing on Drakkon as soon as his feet hit the ground. When he saw Faiyte, however, he hesitated.

"I need to talk to you." He said in an uncharacteristically serious tone, looking to Drakkon with a hint of urgency.

"Why?" He rose a brow.

"Because there's something we need to talk about." Wolfe said, now a bit agitated.

"Can it wait?" Faiyte huffed. "We were in the middle of something."

"No." He said sharply, giving her only a quick glance. "Drak. Now." Something had clearly happened. Drakkon sighed, giving a gesture for Faiyte to leave them alone. She frowned, but got to her feet, regardless.

"Fine." She said. "I've got work to do, anyway." She muttered as she walked off, towards the main building. Wolfe watched after her, waiting impatiently for her to leave earshot.

"What happened?" Drakkon asked. Wolfe glanced back to him, then moved forward, snatching Drakkon's arm and tugging him from the crate he sat on to drag him away from passers by. "Stop that." Drakkon snarled, pulling his arm from Wolfe's grip. As he did so, the paladin rounded on him.

"What the hell are you doing!?" He demanded. "And I want a straight answer this time, not some half-assed excuse or deflection!"

"Calm down before I have to hurt you, and tell me what happened that's got you so riled up."

"I want my answer!" Wolfe insisted. "You've been here for close to two years now, Drak. What happened to just gathering information and leaving, so the place could be destroyed. _That_ was the plan, remember!?" He growled.

"What happened?" Drakkon repeated. At this, Wolfe's glare worsened.

"What happened, is the Citadel got attacked, again." Wolfe said. "It was bad, this time. We can't keep up with this nonsense much longer, Drak! You haven't been back there to see what it's come to, but I _have_! It's a complete disaster!" He shot. "It is not getting any better, it's getting worse! The damn attacks are constant, now, and we've lost well over half of the enforcements we used to have, in just this past week!"

"So coming to _scold_ me, is supposed to help?" Drakkon rose a brow. Wolfe's tone was easily wearing at his patience.

"You're the one that's supposed to be dealing with this! You're supposed to be there, not living among the damn Crusade!" Wolfe hissed. "You have to go back, _NOW_!"

"I'm not going back." Drakkon announced.

"When, then!? We can't keep doing this!"

"Wolfe. I'm _not_ going back." Drakkon said pointedly. "Ever."

"What!?" Wolfe erupted, looking both shocked and outraged.

"You heard me."

"You can't be serious right now! You have to go back, Drak, you're the damn King!"

"If I don't go back, then I'm not." Drakkon said. "Then dad can take back the throne, and everyone will have to listen to him again. Everything will go back to normal."

"Drak!"

"I made up my mind a long time ago." Drakkon announced. "And there is nothing that you can say or do to change that. Deal with it." With this, Drakkon turned to leave Wolfe behind. The paladin stared blindly after him, stunned and angered by it all.

"Wolfe?" He turned quickly as he heard Tsage beside him, looking a bit concerned. "Are you alright? You look-"

"Why are you here?" Wolfe asked, interrupting her.

"I come to check in on things, from time to time." She said. "With how I hear you've been keeping busy, I can understand how you must not have noticed." She paused, as Wolfe gave another glance toward the direction Drakkon had gone. "What's going on?"

"I need you to do something for me..." He said, looking back to her.

"That really would depend on what it is." She said cautiously, studying his stressed demeanor.

"I need you to tell the Crusade... No.." Wolfe hesitated. "Tell Wrynn.. Tell _everyone_.." He struggled.

"Tell them what?"

"Tell them about Drak. Who he really is, that he's been staying here, that he's been gathering information.."

"Wolfe, I can't do that." Tsage breathed, taken aback.

"You need to." He insisted. "I would do it, myself.. But I don't exactly have a death wish. Whether that means from Wrynn, the Crusade, or anyone back at the Citadel who would disagree with this decision."

"What is going on?" She tried. "Why are you asking me to do this? I can't just rat him out without a good reason."

"And the fact that the Lich King has infiltrated the Argent Crusade _isn't_ a good enough reason?"

"He hasn't done any harm to us.." She shook her head.

"Well he has to _us_!" Wolfe announced.

"Us.. Meaning the Scourge?" Wolfe nodded. "You do realize that's not a team I belong to, right?"

"Do it as a personal favor to me, then." Wolfe sighed. "This all started, because you worked your way into the Citadel." He accused.

"Wolfe, that was a long time ago.. It has nothing to do with-"

"It has everything to do with the current state of things!" Wolfe corrected. "After Drak found out about you leaking information to the Alliance, he tore down Dalaran and ran everyone that wasn't affiliated with the scourge out of Northrend, all together. He did this all without consulting, or even informing, the council. They rebelled against him, after that. They denounced him as their king, and they fought against us." Wolfe explained hurriedly. "They lost their respect for Drak, and so they wouldn't listen to him. Our father tried to help but, since he was no longer the king, they wouldn't listen to him, either. Then, Drak decided to help the Crusade raise Dalaran, and subsequently allow the Alliance and Horde adventurers back into the continent that he'd already lost control over. So, now, we not only have to deal with the rebelled forces, but the adventurers, as well. Who have all developed a very large, unrelenting grudge against us for driving them out, in the first place!" His stress was heavy in his voice, and Tsage's concerned expression had grown worse as he continued. "The Citadel, the gates, fleshwerks.. It's all under constant attack, from everyone, and we're losing ground, guards, soldiers... We are just one strategically planned out attack away from losing it, all together. And Drak is now _refusing_ to go back to the Citadel at all!" Wolfe huffed. "Our only chance to make it out of this is if Drak is _forced_ to go back. The only way that can happen, is if his real identity is exposed. Then he will have no choice, not being able to be here, or in any Horde or Alliance city.. I need your help, Devon. I need it desperately."

"If I do this, they will go after him.. You, too, since you've already let everyone know you two are brothers.." Tsage announced. "How do you know you can even make it out of here, alive? If Drakkon is refusing to go back to the Citadel, he'll be here, when everyone finds out."

"He'll be able to get out of here. His mind works faster than your soldiers can move." Wolfe insisted. "Please. You owe me." He tried, and Tsage faltered.

"Are you sure this is the only way?"

"He's stubborn. He said he's already made up his mind, and I know I won't be able to simply talk him into leaving.." Wolfe said. "The only way he'll leave, is if it's impossible for him to stay."

"You don't want to try?" She seemed almost pleading, and Wolfe frowned.

"There is nothing else I can do."

"Alright.." She finally sighed in defeat. "I'll go back to the city now, then... Just be ready." She said. "If the two of you end up dead, over this, I would never forgive myself." She added.

"We'll be fine." He assured with a nod. "Now, the sooner the better." He nodded towards the griffins. She nodded, moving forward to give him a quick hug, before starting off. Wolfe waited a while, then set off to find Drakkon, again. Perhaps, if he was lucky, he could convince his brother to leave, and the fight could be avoided, all together.

"Drak." Wolfe tried, once he saw Drakkon, wandering on the outside of the Vanguard's walls.

"Save it." Drakkon shot, glaring over to him. "If you're so damn concerned about it, then _you_ go back."

"I shouldn't be the one who has to clean up after you." Wolfe said. "What the hell is so much better about it, here, anyway?"

"Everything." Drakkon glared. "The top of the list is not being responsible for every little thing, anymore. No one knows who I am, they don't expect me to be able to solve everything, I don't have to worry about what my next move has to be.. It's much better, here."

"Better in a place where everyone treats you like a lowly worker, only looking to you for a potion now and then, getting minimum to no pay, and playing house with Fyrelilly? _That's_ better?" He paused a moment, something clicking in his mind. "You know, that's when all of it started! When you started hanging around the priest!" He said. "I was in that meeting about Dalaran. I saw how hard she fought for it to be raised, again. How upset she got, when the Crusade decided against it.. Then you told me to let it happen, after she talked to you!"

"Get off it, Wolfe." Drakkon demanded, though he didn't deny any of it.

"So it _is_ all because of her!?" Wolfe asked, in a slight uproar. "You want to abandon everything, just for a piece of ass!?" At this, Drakkon narrowed his eyes. "And I thought _I_ was bad! What the hell happened to your damn priorities!? I thought being king was all you ever wanted, for Light's sake!"

"It's changed." He shot.

"Just like that!? _WHY_!?" Wolfe hissed. "That's all I ever saw you aspire for, growing up! The only thing that mattered to you! That little Argent Crusade whore has just gotten in your head!" As he said it, Drakkon snarled, sparks erupting from his claw as he took a rather violent swing at Wolfe's head. The paladin barely ducked out of the way in time, all his anger instantly turning to shock. "Hey! Calm down!" Drakkon didn't listen. He caught Wolfe, slamming him back into the brick wall behind him.

"You DARE call her a whore again and I will slit your damn throat!" Drakkon growled. "Are we clear!?" Wolfe gave a quick, submissive nod. He knew better than to cross Drakkon when he was angry, and Drakkon certainly looked outraged.

"Alright." Wolfe agreed, before Drakkon finally let him go. "I'm sorry."

"Damn straight you're sorry." Drakkon shot.

"So.. It was all for her. The protection and letting them keep Dalaran.. All the cooperation?" Wolfe asked, after a moment of allowing Drakkon to calm down. He didn't give a verbal answer, but Wolfe could still see it, all the same. "You love her, don't you?" Again, he didn't answer. "Even if you _don't_ go back to the Citadel.. If you stay here and continue to work for the Crusade, if you go back to Darnassus.. Whatever plan it is, you may have.. She would, eventually, find out who you really are. You couldn't just hide something like that forever.. You _do_ know that, right?"

"You'd be amazed at the things I've been able to hide, Wolfe." Drakkon muttered.

"But.." Wolfe began, slightly bracing himself. "Are you good enough to hide something that's announced openly... To the entire Crusade?" Drakkon's glare worsened, and Wolfe moved back a bit.

"You wouldn't, if you knew what was good for you." Drakkon warned.

"No.. Not me.." Wolfe tried. "Not really.." He paused. "Listen.. I thought I could handle this my own way.. Force you to come back to the Citadel by, basically, giving you no other option.. I told Devon about my problem, and asked her to tell Wrynn... For your own good." He added. Drakkon looked surprisingly calm. Wolfe hadn't expected the silence. He had expected Drakkon to be trying to kill him, at this point.

"So.. Go stop her." He finally spoke, a very cold, dangerous tone to his voice.

"Stop her?" Drakkon nodded. "How? You want me to just go to Stormwind and-"

"Yes." Drakkon interrupted. "Now."

"Drak, I can't just-" Wolfe began.

"No, Wolfe! You can, and you _will_!" Drakkon shot. "How _dare_ you go behind my back like this! For the first first damn time in a very long time I don't feel like I constantly have to look over my shoulder. I don't feel like I'm carrying the weight of the world, and I don't feel so damn stressed about all the _bullshit_ I had to deal with, before! Who the hell are _you_ to take that away from me!?" Drakkon snarled, giving Wolfe a quick, hard shove that nearly made his topple over. "You _will_ fix this! Remember one thing, Wolfe! If they find out who I am, they find out who _you_ are! You'll be stuck back in the damn Citadel, too! And, trust me, I will make it my personal top priority to make your life such a royal, living hell that you'll wish you'd never been born!" He growled. "GO FIX THIS!" Wolfe, knowing there was no argument left to make, if he wanted to escape injury, nodded. He ducked back around the wall into the Vanguard, heading for the griffins.

Drakkon watched, making sure Wolfe left to do as he was told, before he leaned back against the wall with a heavy sigh. He knew it would be Wolfe that ended up ruining everything. From the moment the paladin had set foot in the Vanguard, it was a disaster waiting to happen. Wolfe probably wouldn't make it in time. Tsage probably already told Wrynn. Drakkon should have known better than to trust her, as well. Of course, it would end up being a combination of the two of them. Wolfe wouldn't be able to stop what he'd set into motion. The Crusade, as a whole, would know about him before nightfall and, if he and Wolfe were _lucky_, they would escape with their lives, only to be sent running back to the Citadel and all associated madness that went along with it. And, as though that wasn't enough in itself, the Crusade and the adventurers would surely focus more on the Citadel, after learning about the infiltration. With the other forces of Northrend still at war with the scourge, fresh attacks would definitely prove to be disastrous. Everything _was_ entirely ruined. Drakkon swore loudly, wanting nothing more than to rip Wolfe's head clean off.

"Drak?" The last think he wanted was to have to explain his current state to Faiyte, and he tried to express that thought as he looked over to her. She seemed to understand, well enough, and simply moved to his side, leaning against the wall beside him. "Kil'sha, again?" She tried, after a while of silence.

"My idiot brother." He corrected, unable to mask the venom filled hatred from his voice, as he did so. This caused Faiyte to raise a brow in question. "I thought you left."

"I was going to." She said. "Apparently, there was some big to-do in Stormwind that had to be dealt with.." She shrugged. "Duxar said the Queen had called the leaders together and said to hold off, until he got back." Wolfe was too late. It was already happening. "Are you alright?" She asked. His realization had clearly made his panic more noticeable.

"Let's go." He sudden;y suggested.

"Go?" She asked. "What do you mean? Go where?"

"Back to your house. Like you said, Duxar won't have anything for you to do, until he gets back. He can't expect you to just sit around here and wait. It's around the time we usually head back anyway, right?" He was rather desperate. Leaving the Vanguard, leaving Northrend, all together, was his last ditch hope at avoiding what he already knew was coming. Faiyte looked concerned.

"Drak.." She said, demanding his attention. He was reluctant to actually look at her. As though she'd be able to see it all, read his mind, and just _know_. "Are you alright?" She asked.

"No." His answer made her frown a bit. "Can we please go?" She hesitated, but gave a nod, gesturing to the griffins.


	22. Nothing Short of Disaster

He couldn't help how on edge he was. Faiyte had attempted to get the reasoning out of him, but to no avail. His focus, through the night, was on what was awaiting in the morning. No doubt that the Vanguard's defenses would be tripled, and there may be soldiers waiting to attack in Dalaran, for his arrival. He was actually surprised that they hadn't shown up in Darnassus. Although, he wasn't sure it would be mentioned as a place he could be. The fleeting, naive hope that Wolfe had made it in time to stop Tsage, wouldn't leave him alone. There was a very slim chance that this would be true. The reality of it was that he wasn't even sure if Wolfe had survived. The fact that he may have sent his brother to his doom wasn't as pleasant as he tried to convince himself it was. Not that he'd ever let it show, that he actually cared. He tried to convince himself he shouldn't. It was Wolfe's own fault, anyway.

With the high amount of stress wracking his mind, it was easy enough for Kil'sha's taunting voice to surface. Something he'd been ignoring, but dealing with, for hours. The main reasoning being that Faiyte had fallen asleep on the couch, as they sat there. The morning wouldn't be entirely pleasant for her, either. The least he could do was let her get some rest. As far as she went, he didn't know exactly what to expect. No scenario his mind ran through ended well, however. He'd briefly considered coming clean and telling her, directly, instead of having her find out through the madness the next day would bring. But it was that damn hope that had stopped him.

It was that same hope that kept trying to convince him to return to the Vanguard. He could just as easily leave, now, and head back to the Citadel. He could avoid the disaster that was probably waiting for him, and just disappear, instead. Then again, the thought of crawling back to the scourge with his tail between his legs, and having to face whatever lecture and orders that were waiting for him.. This was another reason to simply face the day at the Vanguard. Maybe it would all work out. Kil'sha found this to be a laughable thought. His voice rose again, taunting on how the Crusade would be waiting with an army, to chew him up and spit him out. Again, Drakkon ignored it. He had enough stress, at the moment, without getting into a fight with the crazed druid. The dim morning light coming through the windows was yet another stress. Morning had come along far too quickly. And, as the sun continued it's rise, Faiyte's natural ability to sense time caused her to stretch and wake.

"I can't believe I was able to sleep." She spoke, sitting straight and looking to Drakkon. "Have you really just been sitting there, all night?" He gave a slight nod, his mind still racing over what he was supposed to do. "Alright, listen.." She began with a sigh. "I will usually try to stay out of it, if you want me to.. But what is seriously going on, if it's not Kil'sha?" She would find out, soon enough. "Is it? I mean, the only times I'm able to sleep like that, is when he's too busy bothering you.."

"Yeah." He said. At least blaming his state on Kil'sha gave him an out.

"Then what was wrong, yesterday?" She tried. "You said it wasn't Kil'sha, then. You said wolfe did something..." She paused. "What did he do?" Drakkon didn't answer, but he did focus on Faiyte, finally. "Alright, fine." She sighed with a shrug. "Should we just go, then?"

"No." The answer had rushed out of him in clear panic, and Faiyte's expression grew to slight concern and curiosity. He still hadn't decided, fully, on what he had to do.

"Why not?" She asked. "I mean, we have nothing left to do, here. It's not like we ever actually eat, before we leave. And we always leave early, anyway.." She was saying. Drakkon was barely listening. He was wracking his mind for an answer. It was either return to Dalaran, to the Vanguard, and probably be killed by the crusade, or return to the Citadel to get lost in the chaos he'd created through the years. "Something's got you scared, Drak.. Did Wolfe do something like.. Well, he's an idiot.. Did he plant a bomb at the Vanguard or something?" Faiyte was still talking. It would have been easier if he'd never stayed at the Vanguard, in the first place. Then again, that would just mean he would have spent the last two years in the Citadel, still unable to fix the mess he made. The Vanguard would have just been destroyed, if he hadn't decided to stay there. Dalaran would never have been raised. The adventurers wouldn't have been allowed back into the continent, and the Horde and Alliance bases would never have been re-established.. That certainly would have helped.. "I mean, if he did, we should at least warn someone. We can just chalk it up to his stupidity. He may not be allowed around explosives ever again... But otherwise there shouldn't be any lasting punishment.." Honestly, Faiyte was the only reason the decision was difficult at all. If it wasn't for her, being part of the equation, the right answer was obvious. To save himself and just go back to the Citadel to face the music. Faiyte was the main reason he's stayed in the Vanguard, anyway. The reason he'd decided to leave the Citadel, permanently.. "Unless it, you know, explodes.. With everyone there.. And he just didn't tell anyone." Things would be a lot simpler if there was any chance, at all, that Faiyte would return to the Citadel, with him. But there simply was none. She was so wrapped up in the Crusade and the ways of the light that it wasn't even a possibility. "Drak. If the Vanguard is going to explode, we _need_ to-"

"I love you." He interrupted, stopping her short. She looked a bit shocked by it, but a smile tugged at her lips.

"I love you, too." She replied, then took a short pause. "Drak.. I've known you for two years now.. I know, well enough, that you aren't the kind of guy to.." She struggled. "It's not like you wear your emotions on your sleeve. And you definitely don't like to leave yourself open, like that. Not that it wasn't nice to hear, but I know you're the kind of guy to just figure something like that is implied, rather than having to say it." She knew him too well. "Something is seriously going on, isn't it?" Drakkon sighed.

"Let's just say, some things have recently been discovered about me and I might be in a lot of trouble.." He tried. "I figured I might not have another chance, and thought you should know, before the shit hits the fan." Through the vague explanation, her concern and curiosity had grown.

"Drak." She tried, a prompt for more information. "You can't just tell me you might be in a lot of trouble, and not actually tell me why.." He couldn't just tell her. This was something he just couldn't face. And, if Wolfe _had_ made it in time.. Well he could always make up a story, later on to explain himself. Drakkon moved, getting to his feet.

"Alright. Let's go." He said, though he couldn't mask the heavy reluctance in his voice. Faiyte didn't move, only looked to him in question. "I'll explain later." He assured.

"Promise?" She rose a brow, and he nodded. Faiyte sighed as she stood from the couch, and Drakkon cast a portal to Dalaran. "I'd better get an explanation." She said, giving him a pointed look before moving through the portal. After an extra moment to prepare himself for whatever could be waiting, in the floating city, he followed.

Surprisingly enough, nothing was any different from any other time the pair went into Dalaran. It was bustling with the usual inhabitants and assorted group of adventurers. There was no mob waiting, no Wrynn.. Not even any extra guards. Maybe Wolfe had made it, after all. They made it through the city without even a second glance, borrowing griffins to take them to the Vanguard. No one was waiting in the air, either, and the Vanguard looked nearly the same, as they neared it. The only difference, was that about half of the scourge forces that usually watched over the place had disappeared.. This was either because his father couldn't afford to spare them, anymore, or because the Crusade had finally taken action against it. Drakkon wasn't sure which. As they landed, the nervous pit in Drakkon's stomach grew. The Vanguard's guard population had gone up. Though a few of them had glanced at the arrival, nothing happened. There was no rush to attack, no battle cries.. Nothing happened.

"What's going on?" Faiyte had stopped one of the guards, as he was walking past.

"Reinforcements were called in, to take care of the overpopulation of scourge in the area." He replied casually. "A few of them tried to break into the base, last night. We had to put up a few wards, to be activated if they ever try to do so, again."

"Wards?" Faiyte asked, raising a brow. "I thought the barrier was enough." The guard gave a nod.

"Light wards. It will block any undead from trying to get in here, as well as trapping any of them who get inside." He explained. "This way, if there is ever a planned attack, from the scourge, it will be that much easier to fight them off. The wards make it near fatal to any undead that try to pass." This wasn't exactly a comforting though. He needed to find Wolfe. If Wolfe was alright, then everything was fine. He was quite relieved to see the paladin waiting at his usual alchemist table, waiting for him. However, the paladin looked worried. As soon as he saw Drakkon, he stood, waiting rather impatiently for the mage to reach him.

"Listen, Drak.. Where the hell were you? I tried to find you, last night, but you were gone."

"I was in Darnassus. What happened?"

"I didn't make it there in time. When I got to Stormwind and asked a guard where I could find Devon.. He said she was already in a meeting with Wrynn and the higher ups of the Crusade.." He said quickly. "So I left, to come back and warn you, but-"

"Why wasn't there anyone waiting in Dalaran, then?" The panic had come back, full force, at the news. What kind of a game was the Crusade trying to play? "Why didn't they attack as soon as I landed?"

"Because, if I remember right, you and I have a personal score to settle." Wrynn's voice rose from a short ways away, and Drakkon swore, looking over to him.

"The score's been settled already, Wrynn." Drakkon said, attempting to force himself to sound calm. "You sent a spy to me, and I retaliated."

"You destroyed Theramore and tried to kill us all." Wrynn corrected with a scowl.

"Well clearly I didn't succeed, or you wouldn't be standing here." Drakkon announced, moving around the table. Having something between them seemed like a good idea. And, as he did so, he was able to snatch one of the potions without being seen. "Actually, since you did survive, the appropriate thing to do would be to let me leave." He tried. Wrynn smirked slightly, shaking his head.

"The appropriate thing to do, is to take care of the scourge menace, once and for all.." He said. "You know, I arrived here, last night. Seeing as how you weren't here.. We've already been to the Citadel to enact a little revenge. But, it's just not good enough without taking care of the source of the problem." Along with the rather large group of guards Wrynn had at his side, they were quickly gaining the attention of the rest of the base. As Faiyte noticed this, she started over.

"Faiyte." Solara called, snatching her arm and stopping her. "You might want to stay back."

"Why?" Faiyte rose a brow, glancing back to Wrynn and Drakkon before focusing on Solara. "What the hell is going on?"

"You haven't heard?" Solara breathed, giving a concerned look. "It was announced to us last night. Drak isn't who he said he is." She tried.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Faiyte demanded.

"He's the Lich King." Solara announced.

"What!?" Faiyte scowled. "No, he isn't. That's impossible."

"No, he is.. King Wrynn was skeptical about it, too, when he showed up. As well as a lot of us.. But King Wrynn has seen him before, and he was able to describe him perfectly and..." She faltered as Wrynn drew his weapon, rather casually, as he spoke with Drakkon.

"The wards have already been activated. It's not like you'll be able to escape. It still doesn't mean I'm not looking forward to you pathetically struggling for your life." Wrynn said. Drakkon gave a slight nod, his mind running through any possible escape strategy possible. Regardless of if he could think of one, a fight with Wrynn was clearly inevitable. Wolfe had acted too soon. He drew his weapon, and the guards around Wrynn automatically sprung forward to attack. With another loud curse in annoyance, Drakkon threw the potion he'd been holding into the mass. As it hit the ground and shattered, the ground quickly spread with a dangerous, writhing smoke that rapidly grew to envelop the entire fight. It obscured vision, as well as making it hard to brethe. That is, hard for anyone who actually needed to breathe. Drakkon wasn't among them, being a death knight came with such an advantage.

Wrynn leapt at him, directly, swinging his sword without a second thought. Drakkon blocked it with his claw, sending a jolt of electricity through it to make Wrynn recoil, before quickly teleporting away into the smoke. He was out of Wrynn's vision, masked in the thick smog, and the King of Stormwind snarled in anger.

"Oh, light!" Solara gasped, as the fight had begun, and smoke ran through the crowd. It was nearly impossible to see through, and it was spreading quickly. The remaining Crusade soldiers quickly ran to aid, lost in the ever expanding cloud. "I told you!" She tried, looking to Faiyte, who's mouth was agape in shock. "We have to help them." At this, Faiyte looked to Solara in both shock and question. "The Crusade, Faiyte! King Wrynn!" She clarified, a bit surprised that it was necessary to do so. The barrier around the Crusade appeared to be sparking, and the frostwyrms in the sky above were growling as they hit it. The scourge forces outside were trying to get in, sensing their king was in trouble. The wards, however, prevented it.

"Where are the wards, Solara?" Faiyte asked quietly, as though she'd barely found the strength to speak.

"Why?" Solara was even more concerned by this question.

"I need to destroy them."

"Faiyte! You can't-" Solara began, voice raising.

"You know him, Solara!" Faiyte interrupted, focusing on Solara in determination. "He's been helping you.. Helping Prince Luka.. He's been doing everything the Crusade told him to do and He hasn't left the Vanguard, other than for missions or to go with me, in two years! He doesn't deserve this and you know it!"

"He's the Lich King, Faiyte! The reason we are here, in Northrend, in the first place! He's the enemy!" Solara tried, though she seemed a bit desperate. As though she was trying to believe in the very words she was saying.

"No he isn't!" Faiyte glared. "I'll find them, myself, if you won't help me. But if I can't find them in time... I won't have to live with it on _my_ conscience, if I know I did all _I_ could." Faiyte shot, then started away, towards the walls of the Vanguard. It was the most logical place she could think, that the wards would have been placed. As she did so, Solara quickly caught up to her, standing in front of the priest to stop her. "Solara! I will take you down, if I have to!" Faiyte hissed. "Do not make it come to that!"

"No." Solara shook her head. "You're right." She rushed. "But you're going about this all wrong, follow me." She said, running in the other direction. Faiyte gave a glance to the walls, knowing that they had to be up there. Was Solara trying to slow her down? "Faiyte, hurry!" Solara called, turning around. "If we get to the top of the tower you can reach them all with spells! Your way, you would have to waste time running around that wall!" She explained.

This prompted Faiyte to move, rushing after Solara as they went into the main building and up the flights of stairs. As they reached the top balcony, Solara grabbed a hold of Faiyte, teleporting onto the roof of the tallest tower. Faiyte could clearly see the wards, and began shooting spells as quickly as she could cast them. Solara joined in, as well, covering one of the walls, herself. While they continued, the barrier around the Vanguard quickly weakened and, as it faded away, the scourge forces outside eagerly rushed the base. The frostwryms above screeching threateningly in anger and swooping down over the buildings. Noting this, Faiyte snatched Solara's arm and dove from the tower, just in time to avoid one's claws. As they fell, Faiyte cast a spell over them to slow the speed of their drop, allowing them to land, unharmed, on the ground below.

They stood, watching, as the scourge forces flooded into the fight. Being undead, they didn't have to worry about the cloud of poisonous smoke. Though, the Crusade was highly trained in fighting the scourge. Their main focus became clear, as they quickly focused on shooting down the handful of frostwyrms above. Knowing that they, of course, were Drakkon's greatest asset to escape. However, with their flaming breath aiding the toxic smoke, a few of the frostwyrms were able to swoop close enough to the fight.

Drakkon was more relieved than ever to see the ghouls and abominations rushing into the smoke cloud that enveloped the fight. It took a lot of focus away from him, at least. Everyone but Wrynn. He was able to get lost in the smoke well enough that Wrynn wasn't able to land any fatal blows, and the smoke, itself, was quickly getting to the lot of them. They were getting slower, as the poison invaded their lungs. Drakkon's focus was on getting out of there, even though the toxin didn't effect him. It was really only meant to slow down those attempting to take him down. They would have to stay within the cloud for quite a while, before the poison would actually kill them. Runic fire was spreading, as well, making it dangerous to move. This, of course, was a well known attack of frostwyrms. This would have to be the escape tactic. If he and Wolfe could make it back to the Citadel, they would be safe. Well, safe until the troops were rallied against them, to attack it. But it was the only option.

The wyrms were starting to come closer to the ground, and Drakkon quickly latched onto one's claw as it went by. The frostwyrm instinctively knew who had grabbed it, and lifted it's arm to aid Drakkon onto it's back. As it started back towards the Citadel, having completed it's goal, Drakkon gave a shouted order and tugged, hard, on one of it's horns. The wyrm gave a slight yelp in shock as being scolded for it's rescue attempt, but obediently turned back around, heading back for the fight. As Drakkon drove the wyrm closer, it sent a breath of fire over the crowd, assuming it was meant to fight. As the wyrm did so, the soldiers in the area, of course, scattered. Drakkon instructed the Wyrm down, until it was gliding just above the ground. About as close as it could get, without having to land. Drakkon moved, latching his claw onto one of the Wyrm's ribs to hold himself on it. Then, as they passed over the crowd, he cast a quick death grip that latched roughly onto Wolfe. The paladin was clearly shocked by the sudden yank through the air, and didn't even make a grab for the wyrm as he did so. Luckily, the frostwyrm noticed him and caught him in it's claw, tossing it onto it's back before Drakkon re-positioned himself and turned it toward the Citadel again.

"That one's got them." Solara announced, pointing to the wyrm that had just dove straight into the cloud. "I saw Drak on it, when it went in, and Wolfe was there, when it flew off." Solara said, sounding rahter accomplished. As she looked to Faiyte, however, her rush of excitement faded. Faiyte looked quite sour.

"What the hell happened!?" Wrynn shouted, as the fight against the scourge and moments later. They had taken down many ghouls, abominations, and wyrms, and the rest had fled from the Vanguard. The surviving Crusade soldiers quickly fled the cloud of smoke, coughing and gasping for fresh air. "Who destroyed the wards!?" He demanded, furious. It was Duxar, that seemed to notice Solara and Faiyte, clear from injury and able to breathe fine.

"What have you two done!?" Duxar called, causing attention to be turned to the priest and mage in question. Solara looked back to Faiyte, who was still watching the sky, where Solara had pointed. "Fyrelilly! I asked you a question! I am your superior officer, and you are required to ans-"

"I quit." Faiyte said.

"What!?" Duxar's question was echoed by a few others.

"I said I quit!" Faiyte said sharply, her eyes snapping to Duxar.

"So it was you!?" Wrynn was furious, and he glared to Faiyte as he approached her. "You destroyed the wards!? Allowed the scourge into the Vanguard and allowed their wretched king to escape!? Do you realize what I could do t-"

"Then do it!" Faiyte roared, facing Wrynn as a dangerous rage flashed in her eyes. "Kill me, lock me away I don't care!" She shouted. "You're the King of Stormwind! I would think you would have a little more pride and moral value than to shoot fish in a barrel like that! Trapping him in here like a caged animal and setting loose the entire base on him!? You can call it vengeance for your father or whatever other bullshit reason you want, but somewhere inside you have to know how unjust that was!" She roared.

"And priest of the light, turning to aid the scourge is completely honorable, to you!?" Wrynn hissed.

"I haven't _turned_ on anything! If you want to pursue it, attack the Citadel, take down the scourge.. It's not like I'm planning to do anything to stop you!" Faiyte snarled. "But I _am_ a priest of the light! If being in the Crusade has taught me a damn thing, it's to do what is _JUST_! And nothing about that damn display of your _was_!" She called, throwing her arms up in exasperation. "So, do whatever the hell you want to me, for what I did! But what you just did was cowardly and despicable!"

"Fyrelilly!" Duxar scolded. "This is no way to speak to-"

"I don't give a damn who he is, or what he is king of!" Faiyte interrupted heatedly. "If he wants to punish me for saving his damn honor then he will. But I will _not_ let the fear of being killed or getting locked away stop me from speaking my mind!" She said, looking back to Wrynn. "Someday, when you're recounting your life or trying to teach your son what being a good King is about.. Maybe then you'll understand just how _wrong_ this is, and you'll thank me." She said, forcing herself to calm her voice. "I've heard stories of King Varian.. He would _never _condone this sort of behavior." She added pointedly. "Now. If you want to take me away for this, I'll go quietly. Otherwise. I would like to return home."

"I don't want you anywhere near the Crusade or it's plans, anymore. Are we clear?" Wrynn still looked outraged at the events, but he'd calmed quite a bit, as well.

"Don't worry about it." Faiyte shrugged. "Like I said. I quit."


	23. Of All Things Broken

Drakkon was completely silent as they flew, and Wolfe took this as a hint to do the same. The frostwyrm landed on one of the many walkways around the Citadel, and the pair moved from it's back, as it did so. The, Drakkon rounded on Wolfe, rage in his glare.

"This was all your fault! If you would have just kept your damn mouth shut we wouldn't have been in that mess!"

"Drak, it's not like I thought it would go like that.. I tried to come back and warn you, but-"

"There should have been nothing to warn me about!" Drakkon roared, claw sparking in a result of his anger. At this, Wolfe backed up a bit. Drakkon, however, moved forward as he did so. "I should have just left you there! You deserved to face what you did! And the only reason I pulled you out of there was so that I could bring you back here to _kill you myself_!" He snarled, claw sparking again. Wolfe's fear was clear in his face, as he continued moving away from his enraged brother. "You're a damn pest, Wolfe! You ruin everything you come into contact with, just from your own damn stupidity! I _knew_ I shouldn't have trusted you to be there! I _knew_ I should have sent you away and eliminated any damn problems you could have caused! I _knew_ you would be the one who completely destroyed everything! And you think I'm just not going to-" He stopped as Wolfe backed his way around a corner and he followed. Drakkon's focus had instantly changes, and his anger had faded completely into deep shock. Wolfe was instantly concerned. He turned around, following Drakkon's gaze.

The entire half of the Citadel was completely obliterated. It left a large gaping hole, straight through the lower portion of the tall structure. Below the hole, among the mass pile of rubble, were seige engines, catapults, glaive runners, and fighter planes. The machines were clearly what had created the disaster before them. It wasn't uncommon for a few machines to attach the Citadel, but never such a multitude at once. The attack was clearly very well planned out, and it had left the Citadel completely open and vulnerable. If they had managed to create such a disaster on the outside.. Drakkon moved quickly, heading for the nearest entrance, Wolfe tailing immediately afterward in concern.

It was a complete disaster, throughout the entire Citadel. Bodies, scourge, Crusade, Alliance and Horde, were littered around. Walls were busted down and broken, debris was scattered across the floor.. Drakkon was heading towards the voices he heard, down the hall. Apparently, there were some who survived. The lack of guards, outside the Citadel, had him wondering. It was the old training room. Or, what was left of it. There were others around the room, but not many. Not nearly as many as there should be. Tonik had noticed them first, and bolted over.

"Oh thank Elune! We thought you two had been killed!" She cried, throwing her arms around Drakkon in a tight hug. He was far too shocked, by the scene before him, to stop her.

"What happened?" Wolfe breathed. Tonik moved, reluctantly releasing Drakkon to face Wolfe.

"It was worse than any attack, before.. And, with all the losses we've had lately.." She paused. He voice was shaking, and she looked absolutely timid. This from someone who was one of the bravest knights the scourge had, was a clear sign that it had been a devastating battle. "It was all of them.." She continued. "The Crusade, Stormwind guard, adventurers from both factions...There was no way we could fight them all off. The only reason any of us, here, even made it, is by retreating to the Stonghold." She struggled, then, looking between the two as they stared in shock at their surroundings. "Listen.. There's something the two of you should know..." She faltered.

"Oh no..." Drakkon breathed, catching Tonik and Wolfe's attention. His focus was across the room, locked on something.

"I didn't say it, yet.." Tonik began cautiously.

"You didn't have to." At this, Wolfe followed Drakkon's gaze. On the other side of the room was Silver and Nyteshayde, sitting alone in the corner. Silver looked distraught, and it appeared that she'd recently been crying, if not still. Nyteshayde held an arm around her, but was completely still, staring into open air with a sort of frozen, broken and disquieted look on her face.

"What happened?" Wolfe asked, after watching them for a moment. Tonik struggled, looking over to him.

"During the battle..." She sighed, clearly hesitant of what she was about to say. "Your father-"

"No." Wolfe interrupted, shaking his head. He'd known it was coming. "No, it's impossible. What _really_ happened?"

"Wolfe, I'm sorry, but it _is_ the truth.." Tonik tried.

"No it isn't! If this is your version of some sick, twisted joke, it isn't funny!" Wolfe's anger rose quickly, and he glared to Tonik. He was clearly in denial about it. Drakkon, however, understood it perfectly, just from looking at his mother. He could read her emotion well enough, having been through it with Jaimee. "He's a Death Knight, Tonik! He can't die!"

"You know as well as I do that death knights can be killed." Tonik said, giving an attempt to rest a hand on Wolfe's arm. He moved, however, only growing more angry.

"He's different! He's stronger than the rest of them! It doesn't matter if they brought an entire army in here, they wouldn't be able to take him down!" He insisted. "Right, Drak?!" He demanded. Drakkon gave a sigh, giving Wolfe a look that clearly showed that he believed Tonik. Upon seeing this, Wolfe stopped, realizing it was the truth.

"We did all we could to fight them off, but nothing we could have done would have been enough." Tonik assured. "There were too many of them, with too solid a plan..."

"This is your fault." Wolfe accused, narrowing his eyes at Drakkon.

"Wolfe, pl-" Tonik tried.

"This is all your damn fault, Drak!" Wolfe snarled, catching the attention of the others, in the room. "If you had just listened and did what you were supposed to do, instead of running away from it all! We could have got the others on our side! If you had just listened to him and went through that damn council meeting as planned, we could have gotten them all back on our side! We wouldn't have been this weak! We would have been fine! You should have been here! It should have been _you_!" Wolfe roared. _"You_ did this! It's _your_ fault he died! I hope it was all worth it to you, you cowardly little-" Wolfe stopped as the familiar blade of Frostmourne came between the two, separating them just as Wolfe had started to move for Drakkon, looking ready to attack. They both looked over to see Nyteshayde, anger mixed in with her otherwise broken looking expression.

"Now is _NOT_ the time for you two to be fighting!" She shouted, and Wolfe immediately took a step away from the situation in shock. Nyteshayde was never one to loose her temper and raise her voice. She lowered the blade, giving Wolfe a pointed look, before focusing on Drakkon. "Come with me, _now_!" She ordered, then started away, Drakkon following after obediently. They walked in silence, until Nyteshayde moved into a separate room.

"Listen, mum, I-" Drakkon began.

"Don't!" Nyteshayde shot, turning to face him. "Wolfe is right. You should have been here. If you had just listened to your father, in the beginning, we wouldn't be in this mess."

"It's not like I knew this would happen.." Drakkon breathed, slightly shocked at Nyteshayde's accusation. He had expected it from Wolfe. Nyteshayde, however, had _always_ been on Drakkon's side.

"Your father did." She replied coldly. This shocked him, even more.

"What?"

"After that fiasco at the council meeting.. After you turned all of them against us, for good..." She said. "He knew this was coming. He knew this is what it would come to." She paused, a pain coming into her eyes. "And damnit, Drakkon, I TRIED to get you to come back! But you wouldn't! According to Wolfe, you refused to leave the damn Crusade!" She shot. "You stayed away fro two damn years! Leaving the rest of us to rot in the stew of the mess you left us! Leaving your father with the stress of trying to and pick up the pieces and put everything back in order! Without even so much as telling any of us that you had no damn intention of coming back!" She hissed. "I really hope that whatever it was you ran away for, was worth destroying everything, here!"

"Mum, I-"

"No, Drakkon! There is no excuse and I don't want to hear you even _try_ to explain yourself!" She interrupted. "You are either with us, or against us! You can either handle this, or you can't!" She snapped. "Your father willingly gave you the throne to get you out of your rut! Do you think he actually _WANTED_ to step down!? He did it for you!" She shouted. "AND THIS IS HOW YOU SHOW YOUR GRATITUDE!?" She roared, the tears that had lain dormant in her eyes finally falling over her cheeks. "You may want to act like he held you under his thumb.. That he controlled you too damn much.. You can act like he didn't care all you damn want, Drak! But what other king would willingly hand over their throne to their son, simply to help them get over something painful!?" She cried. "The least you could have done was show a little damn appreciation for it! And leaving things the way you did, with him..." She struggled, her voice cracking a bit. "He was a damn good father, Drakkon, and he certainly didn't deserve all the shit you left him with."

"I'm sorry." Drakkon tried.

"Are you, really?" She breathed. "Because it seems like, if you care enough to be sorry, then you should have cared enough not to abandon us!" She paused, taking a few deep breaths and running a hand over her face in an attempt to compose herself. "Alright.. That's enough.." She struggled. "Your father said you never stood a chance at being a proper king, while he was still alive and acting as your safety net.." She said. "He knew that this would be the inevitable result of it all... Like I said, you're either with us, or against us.. Which is it?"

"I'm with you."

"Because you want to be, or because you have to be?" She asked, focusing back on him as she finally calmed herself enough.

"I want to be." Honestly, it was the truth. What he'd wanted was Faiyte. He'd simply convinced himself that he also wanted a life outside of the scourge, knowing that she wouldn't have him any other way.

"Good." She nodded. "The bigger question, is if you can handle taking control. And I mean _really_ taking control.. Your father isn't here to guide you, anymore. You have to be able to do this, on your own, or not at all."

"I can handle it." He assured. Though, a large piece of him doubted the words. Nyteshayde regarded him a moment, before speaking again.

"They will attack again, while we are weak. We won't be able to fight them with what we have.. The condition we're in.." She began. "I know what it is we need to do, now. I know what our next move should be." She announced. "But, If I'm allowing you to take back control, I _need_ to know that you do, too.." He did know the answer. He just wasn't sure how they could accomplish it.

"We have to get the others back." He answered, and she gave a short nod.

"Good." She said, looking down to Frostmourne before holding it out for him. "I've already called them, here. You will be fixing things." She said, as Drakkon took the sword from her. "If you stand any chance at gaining back their respect.. You need to do this without me telling you what to do or what to say." This was a frightening thought. "Just remember that, last time we tried this, they went after you. We don't have the resources to fight back, this time." Drakkon gave a nod in understanding. "They've been told to meet me outside.. Some of them may be waiting, already. They thing that they are coming to speak with me, however. They don't know that you'll be there. So I suggest being as friendly and apologetic as you can, right out of the gate." She said, leading him back out of the room and through the citadel. Ghouls and constructs had been brought up, while Drakkon and Nyteshayde had been away, talking. They were cleaning up the mess, and attempting to fix the large holes, scattered around the Citadel. Nyteshayde had been right, about the leaders of the other races already being there. As they saw that Drakkon was walking alongside Nyteshayde, it started a bit of a riot among them.

"What the hell is he doing here!? I thought he was gone!" One called to Nyteshayde, above them all.

"If you could all just calm down and listen for a minute.. I just want to talk." Drakkon took control, straight away, and Nyteshayde stood to the side, watching. "After that, if you all still want to kill me, there's not really much I can do to stop you." This seemed to catch their interest, and their outraged shouts died down to a collective muttering among themselves. "I've done a lot of things wrong, since I became King. I know that, and I have known for a while. Obviously, it only got worse over time." He said, "It took me a while to realize it, but the worst think I could have done was take down Dalaran, without talking to all of you. I was wrapped up in what I wanted, and what I thought was best. It's been proven to me ever since, that it's not only my opinion that matters." There was a collective agreement among the group, and more insults and taunts of anger. Drakkon simply allowed it, waiting until they calmed, again, before he continued. "I still think the act, itself, was what was best for us all. But the fact that I didn't discuss it with any of you was obviously a mistake." He said. "I couldn't see, before, why my father spoke with all of you, about your ideas and concerns.. I thought it was all unnecessary nonsense.. But I was wrong. The continent is best kept under all of you. You're able to watch over places that we, here, can't. You see more than we do, and you keep things under control in your own respective ways.. I never realized how much having you on our side helped, and I took it for granted. You all have my sincerest apologies for the mess I caused, but acting on my own. I know I can't convince you it will change, and I don't blame you for not being able to trust me. _I_ wouldn't trust me." He announced. "All I can do is offer my word that I won't act that way, again. You will be informed of everything, and asked about any decision I consider. Your thoughts, opinions, and concerns will be taken to heart, as they should be, from this point on."

"It's easier said than done." One spouted.

"Judging from what happened the last time we spoke with you, how can we even be sure these are your words?" Another called out.

"It seems like your father is still pulling the strings, here. We'll be ruled by a puppet." At this, Nyteshayde moved.

"The Citadel was attacked, not long ago." She called over them, gesturing to the heavily damaged Citadel, behind her. "They were organized and ruthless, and Arthas was killed, in the fray." She announced. This caused silence through the crowd, who looked from Drakkon to Nyteshayde in shock. "Drakkon has not been told what to say, or how he should act. I can assure you all that he knows what he's done wrong, and will not make the same foolish mistakes again." She said. "But they _will_ be back to attack us again, while we are weak. You can take time to think things over, and you can come up with your decisions in as much time as you need. But please, out of the respect you had for Arthas, help us defend the Citadel until we can get it repaired." There were a few mutters in the crowd, and the leader of the rebelling Death knights moved forward, looking back to the group before focusing on Drakkon and Nyteshayde.

"I will bring my forces back to the Citadel." He announced. "There are many of us, and we will help rebuild and defend. My knights look to me for guidance, and expect me to act with their best interests in mind. If we agree to stay, once this is over, I want a guaranteed seat in the new council."

"Done." Drakkon nodded in agreement.

"There is only so much we can do, alone." The knight said, looking back to the group of other leaders. "If the forces of Azeroth take down the Citadel, obliterate the scourge.. You know they will only come after you next."

"Putting our faith in someone like him is just as dangerous." One spoke.

"Things can change." The knight said. "I'm assuming that his actions having resulted in the death of his own father is about as big a wake up call as you can get."

"If it goes back to the way it was before.." The towering Vyrkul leader began. "We will want no part of this." He paused, looking to Nyteshayde. "But we will help you, now." He added. From there, the others followed suit. The leaders left to retrieve their respective soldiers, and bring them to aid in reconstruction and defense, and Drakkon returned to the Citadel knowing that, unless he kept his bargain with them, it would result in another mass rebellion. He despised the restraint of it all, of having to consult with them every time he wanted to make a decision.. He understood, then, why his father always looked so weighed down and stressed. But he had learned much faster than Drakkon, how important it was to have the races of Northrend on the scourge's side. It was just a necessary stress that came with being king. Just like his father had said.


	24. Towards the Final Fight

"Faiyte, dearie?" Elnoir called, rapping on the door to her daughter's room. "You can't just sleep all day. Lunch is almost ready. Wake up and come down to eat."

"Yeah, alright." Faiyte called from her position on the bed. She hadn't been sleeping. She couldn't sleep. Well, she could, but it would likely result in her death. She pulled herself out of bed, tugging her hair into a bun before starting out of her room and down the stairs. As she did, she heard a rather familiar voice speaking with her mother. "Solara?" She called, glancing around as she emerged from the hallway. Sure enough, the redheaded blood elf stood by the doorway. She was holding something. A carefully packaged parcel. She offered Faiyte a warm smile as she approached. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, this was sent to the Vanguard, for you.. I offered to bring it to you." She said, holding out the package. Faiyte hesitantly took it, glancing it over, but not opening it. "How have you been, these past few weeks? Are you really done with the Crusade?"

"I don't really have a choice. Wrynn has banished me, remember."

"_King_ Wrynn." Elnoir corrected, earning a cross look from Faiyte.

"I'm sure, if you talk to him, that-" Solara tried.

"No, Solara." Faiyte sighed. "Even if he allowed me to join the Crusade, again, I don't want to be a part of it anymore."

"Which is just as well." Elnoir nodded, moving into the kitchen to finish making lunch.

"But, Faiyte, you lived and _breathed_ for the Crusade! Why would you want to give it up!?"

"Well.. When I reach a point where I end up dating the Lich King, I feel like I should maybe re-evaluate how effective I am, in an organization set against the scourge." Faiyte replied sharply, giving a shrug. Elnoir, from within the kitchen, gave a slight scoff at the mention of Drakkon. "I mean, that's kind of a distinct sign that I've chosen the wrong profession."

"That was just bad luck." Solara waved it off. "It doesn't mean anything.. You were the best priest we had and-"

"No. I'm done. There's no argument. I'm just done. Forever. End of story." Solara pondered a minute, then smiled slightly.

"Is it a conflict of interest thing? Are you still seeing him?" At this, Elnoir set down a plate heavily, and Faiyte rolled her eyes.

"Of course she isn't!" Elnoir huffed. "Don't be absurd! What kind of a harebrained, mentally unsound, unimaginable-"

"Mum." Faiyte interrupted, giving her mother a pointed look. Then, she turned back to Solara. "No." She said. "I quit the Crusade, because I don't belong there."

"Well, what are you doing now, then?"

"I'm working as an inscriptionist, here." Faiyte said, finally turning her attention back to the package, starting to tear it open.

"But the Temple of the Moon has asked for her." Elnoir chimed in. "Of course, Faiyte has refused that as well. I can't imagine why..." Faiyte was a bit lost to the conversation, captivated by what she had unwrapped. "She's got true potential, and she's wasting it on-"

"I'll be back later on, mum." Faiyte said, moving forward and through the front door without waiting for questions or argument.

"Your lunch!" Elnoir called after her, but she didn't stop. "Will you go see what she's up to? That girl is so damn secretive, lately.." She tried, looking to Solara.

"I can't guarantee I can stop her.." Solara said with a shrug, then followed after Faiyte. Faiyte was fast, but she wasn't too far off. Solara hurried in a sprint to catch up with her, raising a brow at the determination in Faiyte's eyes. "Where are you going? You've concerned your mother."

"Outlands." Faiyte answered simply.

"Why?" At this, Faiyte looked over to Solara as they continued to walk. She looked contemplative, then suddenly stopped, facing the blood elf.

"Make me a portal to Shatterath." She said, causing Solara's curiosity to rise. "Please."

_"Why_, Faiyte?_" _Solara insisted. With a sigh, Faiyte lifted the package she held, opening it a bit to show Solara the necklace that lay inside.

"I need to get this purified." She explained. "Blessed with the light, by A'dal." Solara looked questioning.. "Trust me, if I try to explain it any farther, you'll only be more confused."

"Is this.. Important?" She tried.

"Extremely." Faiyte nodded. "It's a matter of life or death."

"Bu-" Solara's concern grew.

"I could be halfway there, myself, already." Faiyte announced. "Either help me or don't, but I'm going."

"Alright, fine." Solara sighed, starting to cast the spell. "But, if you end up dead, your mother will kill me..."

The reconstruction had finally been finished. Even with all the help, and working round the clock, it had taken much longer than it should have. Drakkon had been right in guessing that the forces of Azeroth would be vengeful, after learning that he'd been in the Vanguard. According to what he'd heard, from the soldiers that roamed and watched over Northrend, a lot of faith had been lost in the Crusade, for not catching it sooner. Though, this wasn't much of a victory. The Crusade was more focused than ever to eliminate the scourge, and prove themselves, once again.

The scourge's inner workings weren't entirely fixed, either. Drakkon felt like he was walking on eggshells, when it came to approaching anyone on the newly re-appointed council. They still didn't trust him and, most likely, never would. Nyteshayde had attempted to assure him that everything would get back to normal eventually, but it was getting harder to take the things she said seriously. She wasn't around, unless she needed to be. Not because she was hiding, or that she didn't want to be a part of it, but she had her own focus, now. Which could be summed up easily enough into one word; Revenge. Nyteshayde had vowed to hunt down, torture, and kill all of the individuals who had attacked the Citadel, that day. Of course, Drakkon doubted she would be able to do so, it gave her a purpose and a goal.. She truly needed one. He'd seen her attempting to deal with her emotions, after what had happened, and it was safe to say that it had sent her into a state of 'mental decline'. This only made him realize, more, that everything truly did rest solely on his shoulders, now. His father was gone, and his mother couldn't take it. So, it was left up to him.

It would have been fine, if he could get a moment's peace, every now and again. But, after all the madness, and in the thick of trying to fix it, he was always looked to for answers that he, as the king, was forced to answer. And he had to do so, on the spot, or the re-joined forces would see it as a hesitation of weakness that wasn't to be trusted. And that would just open up a whole new can of worms. And of course, all of this, after being away from the Citadel and the scourge all together, for two years. And the years he spent isolated away from it all, before that. His psyche had fallen out of tune with it all. Saying that it was all stressful was, actually, a vast understatement.

He'd been forced back into his old habits, as a result of it. Locked away from everyone else, through the night, with his herb-packed pipe and bottle of wine, just to allow his mind a time to be calmed and blank, for the most part. Though, even this didn't help as much as it used to. Years ago, when this was normal behavior for him, he still didn't have to deal with thoughts of Faiyte, or hearing the ever increasing annoyance of Kil'sha's voice in his head. Kil'sha had gotten much, much worse, since Drakkon's return to the Citadel. After learning that Arthas had been killed, the druid took every open opportunity to brag about it, like he had accomplished the task, himself. Though, he certainly wasn't shy about placing the blame on Drakkon. Just as everyone else had. Not like it wasn't the truth. Drakkon knew, well enough, that it was a direct result of his actions. Kil'sha's constant reminders of the fact, however, weren't easily tolerated. And, with his judgment impaired by the nightly coping ritual he'd picked up, it was far too easy to make bad choices. Case and point being the decision to willingly fall asleep, into Kil'sha's nightmare, to end the torture once and for all.

It had taken longer than Faiyte had hoped, to convince A'dal that her actions were pure. Despite the Naruu being explained as a kind and just being, he was entirely logical and had required an explanation of the situation, before he would offer his assistance. Even then, Faiyte was only able to convince him by explaining how the corrupted druid was able to spread into others' sub-conscience. She's explained that Kil'sha was mentally unsound and, once he had done away with she and Drakkon, it still wouldn't quench his blood thirst. Other lives could be at great risk, as well as the emerald dream, itself.

Upon finally receiving the blessing she'd come for, she'd started the journey back home. If she was going to face Kil'sha, and face her own mortality in the process, she would at least like to be in her own bed. Both luckily, and unfortunately enough, Elnoir had taken Cypress and Evangelin into Stormwind, leaving Faiyte a note in explanation. The idea of being left home, alone, was threatening enough, in itself, and she fought the urge to follow them to Stormwind, as the letter suggested. Perhaps, this night, it was better to be on her own. She wasn't entirely sure what to expect and the last thing she wanted was to have her children find her being ripped apart, in her sleep, by an invisible entity. If she was lucky, however, she could make it through the corruption and to Jaimee to have the necklace endowed with Elune's blessing, before the nightmare druid realized she was there. One thing was certain, though; Faiyte had to at least try. After everything Kil'sha had done, he needed to be dealt with.


	25. Into the Darkness Again

The nightmare was just as it always was. Cold, dark, and eerie. Kil'sha's twisted corruption bringing the forest to life with writhing roots, moving trees, and thick fog; any semblance of light, either from sun or moon, hidden from the tainted, blood red sky. Drakkon had expected more, however. He'd expected Kil'sha to try to tear him apart, the moment he came into the emerald dream. Was it not just moments ago, when Kil'sha was picking his way through Drakkon's mind with taunts and insults? What kind of a sick game was the druid playing? Drakkon had anticipated a fight. In fact, for the first time, he'd allowed himself to come into the nightmare, willingly, with the desire for it. Drakkon would have loved to settle on the idea that Kil'sha knew this, and was afraid to show himself. But, Drakkon was a logical thinker. Kil'sha was stronger than him, here, and both of them knew it. Kil'sha wouldn't waste an opportunity to kill Drakkon without good reason. And, the only explanation for that, was that Kil'sha was busy. Distracted. There was only one thing that could have distracted him. Would Faiyte really abandon all better judgment, and fall asleep?

He could hear something in the distance, and could only assume this was what it was. Kil'sha would tear Faiyte apart, easily. She couldn't use her abilities, and she didn't have a weapon. Drakkon, at least, had his claw. He had come into the nightmare looking for a fight, so there was no question or hesitation in seeking out the druid, for him. Following the sound, and the direction in which animated roots were heading, he finally reached the center of the forest. As he'd thought, Kil'sha was busy with Faiyte, who was doing her best to fight off the roots and move through the trees. She should know, well enough, that escaping Kil'sha was impossible. As a large root sped along the ground past Drakkon, heading into the fight, Drakkon grabbed hold of it and jumped on. Being lead by Kil'sha's desire to kill Faiyte, it payed the action no mind. Kil'sha didn't even notice him coming until the root brought Drakkon past the druid. With one swift, electrified swing of his claw, Drakkon stuck the towering being's leg. Kil'sha let out a surprised howl of pain, black blood leaking from the wound as he reared back, his focus landing on Drakkon. The fact that Drakkon was able to get to him, and actually deal a damaging blow, clearly enraged Kil'sha.

"You sneaky, worthless little wretch!" Kil'sha growled, stomping one of his heavy hooves at the mage.

Drakkon was able to move from it fast enough, however, leading the roots that had dove after him under it, instead. Kil'sha easily snapped them, and Drakkon was able to maneuver without fear of having them tangle around him. Kil'sha snarled in annoyance, making a grab for Drakkon ,himself. Drakkon had anticipated the action, turning and digging his claws into the Druid's arm, securing their hold deep into his flesh and sending a jolt of electricity through Kil'sha's body. The druid roared, ripping his arm away before disappearing all together. Clearly, he'd had enough contact with Drakkon's claw. As he vanished, the roots went wild and ruthless. They whipped around violently, attempting to grab and tear at both he and Faiyte, who was still attempting to flee. Drakkon had no mind to question her motives, he was furious, himself, at Kil'sha's escape from the fight.

"What's the matter, Kil'sha!?" He yelled into the forest as he fought the roots. "I thought you wanted a damn fight! Don't tell me you're afraid of me, now!"

"Drak!" Faiyte sounded panicked, and Drakkon turned quickly to see the roots had tangled around her, pulling her roughly into the air. He moved, running the blades of his claw through the roots and cutting them in half. Faiyte fell as the roots holding her went limp, and she quickly turned herself around to land on her feet.

"What the hell are you doing here!? You know better. Wake up!" He called to her, whipping around to to chop down another root after him.

"I've got it!" She announced simply, dodging a tree limb that whipped at her.

"Got what?" He asked, glancing back to her. At this, she quickly held up the necklace. "Go, then!" He ordered, but she hesitated, ducking out of the way of a few more roots.

"You should." She tried, pausing and watching him. It was clear the animated forest's main concern was Drakkon. Though, every now and then, a few would attempt to grab Faiyte, or knock her down. He hadn't answered her, but suddenly turned, tugging her forward and cutting down a root that had popped up behind her. It was also easy to see Drakkon was in a destructive frame of mind. Something had apparently set him off. After fighting off a few more roots and limbs coming their way, he looked back to Faiyte.

"If I go, he'll kill you." He announced. "Now go before he comes back. If luck is on our side, I'll be able to tear out the bastard's throat and there won't be any need for that, anyway." He added, slicing another root and sending a shock of electricity through it. The jolts ran through the mass of them, stunning them. "Go." He ordered. Knowing this was her chance, Faiyte ran.

She bounded through the forest nimbly. Remembering what Drakkon had told her about the forest being able to follow sensing vibrations from movement, she did her best to be light on her feet. It didn't take log for the roots to come to and give chase, but the majority of them were still focused on Drakkon. Faiyte continued to run as fast as she could, ignoring her burning lungs and the injuries she'd gotten from the roots. She could see the light past the corruption a short ways away, and her heart raced in anticipation. She pushed forward, jumping over one last root that attempted to trip her. She skidded to a halt as the warmness of the pure forest washed over her. She took a moment, panting for breath, then glanced back to the dark trees. Again, the corruption seemed to be held back in confinement.

"Jaimee!?" She called out, looking around.

"This way." The familiar fair druid answered from the border of the trees, and Faiyte quickly rushed after her. Jaimee lead her to the same well as before, then turned and held out her hand. Faiyte handed her the necklace immediately, taking a seat on the edge of the well to catch her breath as Jaimee worked on the amulet. "You're lucky." Jaimee commented, glancing over to her. "It was foolish to come here, thinking you could do this, alone. My father could have easily killed you, if Drakkon hadn't shown up."

"Well, it's not like he could be contacted to make a plan." Faiyte scoffed slightly, peering into the crisp looking water of the well. However, a look of question crossed her face, and she turned back to Jaimee. "Did you know, when you were with him?" She asked.

"Not at first." She said, continuing to focus on the necklace. "He was still the prince, while I was alive. He'd been under orders to watch Stormwind, and he lived in my restaurant." She explained. "I didn't know about him until Lady Proudmoore came to my door and told me he was part of the scourge, but she didn't tell me just how essential of a part he was."

"And how did _you_ react to it?" At this, Jaimee cast her a glance. There was a bit of guilt and shame in her eyes that made Faiyte falter.

"I could have reacted better.." She muttered, looking back to the necklace. "But the way I _did_ react, left a permanent reminder across his face. " She announced.

"That was you?" Faiyte asked, and Jaimee nodded.

"In the beginning, I felt betrayed.." She said.

"In the beginning?" Faiyte repeated.

"I tried, for quite some time, to push him out of my mind.. But It kept reminding me that he was under orders and, judging from what I'd heard of the scourge, free will is limited at best.. So I went to Northrend in hopes of rescuing him." She chuckled slightly. "I actually fought him, in fleshwerks, because I didn't know it was him." She said, glancing to Faiyte. "Then, he explained to me who he was, and told me he couldn't leave. So I stayed."

"In the Citadel.. With the scourge?"

"Yes." She nodded. "It's not as bad, there, as everyone says. They aren't as evil as everyone says." She said, and Faiyte looked skeptical. "I know I wouldn't be able to sway your opinion on that." Jaimee said, offering a smile. "But I was happy there, once I was allowed to stay."

"What do you mean?" Faiyte rose a brow.

"Like I said, Drakkon was just the prince, when I was alive. The decision for me to be allowed to stay there wasn't his to make. That rested with his father."

"Arthas Menethil." Faiyte said, and Jaimee nodded. Faiyte still had a hard time believing it, herself.

"And he only let me stay after I used this very place to save the queen. Juliet." She said. "There was an attack on the Citadel, while Drakkon was trying to convince his father to let me stay. Juliet was fatally wounded by a rogue, and the poisons the rogue used were too advanced, even, for Juliet to be raised as a death knight. I used the emerald dream to heal her woulds and draw out the poison. That was the only reason I was allowed to stay." She focused back on Faiyte, holding out the necklace. "My point it, you may be upset with Drakkon for not telling you.. But what would you have done, if he had?" Faiyte hesitated, taking the amulet.

"I would have ad no choice but to let the Crusade know.." She tried. "But at least he wouldn't have lied to me." She added.

"He lied to you, because he didn't want you to hate him."

"There's no way to get past that." Faiyte breathed, looking down to the fully purified necklace. "I'm a priest of the light. I've been raised in the ways of the good and the pure.. Raised to do what is right and just and to help those who need it.. I was a part of the Crusade for years, who enforced the same things. And he is everything I've been _trained_ to hate." She paused, looking back to Jaimee. "I can't get past that." Jaimee gave a small nod.

"I can't change that." She said. "Only _you_ could. But, he is a good man. You know that from the time you spent with him, regardless of who he truly is." At this, Faiyte gave a nod. Then, Jaimee gave a gesture to the necklace. "From the blessing of Elune, this necklace will not be able to follow you, when you wake. It is a part of the dream, now." She announced. "This will be the only time you'll be able to use it so, please, make it count."

"Thank you." Faiyte said, clutching the necklace in her fist securely. The druid smiled, then gestured for the corrupted forest. Faiyte nodded, then started back towards the dark, towering woods. As she crossed the border into the chilling darkness, the necklace began to glow, and grew warm in her hand. As the roots began after her, again, she was rather delighted to find it did, in fact, give her the ability to cast her spells. With this, she easily overpowered the roots and was able to go through the forest, back towards the area where she could hear Kil'sha and Drakkon. The druid had, apparently, returned. He sounded rather rabid, in fact. Perhaps Drakkon was able to keep up with him, and put up a decent fight. She hurried, eager to end it and defeat Kil'sha, once and for all.


	26. The End of a Nightmare

"What's the matter, boy, did I hit a nerve, talking about your wretched father?" Kil'sha cackled from the nothingness. Good, it was about time he came back, in some form. Drakkon was getting annoyed, fighting the forest.

"At least my father wasn't a _coward_." Drakkon called. "He didn't have to cower in the shadows like you."

"Who says I'm cowering? I'm enjoying the show! Perhaps if your father had any sense, he would have fled from that battle at the Citadel. He might still be alive." He taunted. "But, of course, your destruction of the scourge didn't leave him much room, did it?" Drakkon snarled, cutting down another root and looking around the forest. There had to be some sign, somewhere, of Kil'sha's location. "How does it feel, knowing that you single-handedly ruined the kingdom? Caused the decline of the continent? Caused the death of your own father and shattered your entire family?" He laughed. "You really are nothing more than a plague, aren't you?"

"You'd know a thing or two about being a _plague_." Drakkon shot. "Come out here and fight me! What happened to wanting me dead? You would rather have your environment do the job, for you?"

"Does it bother you?" He asked. "Either way is fine, for me. Either way, you end up dead. I think you're just upset that there's nothing you can do." He said. "Poor ignorant child.. After all that time disobeying your father, causing mayhem and acting like an impractical, naive, fool.. The one time you choose to stand up for his honor, it's a trip straight to your own demise." Kil'sha gave a tsk. "You haven't learned anything, have you?" He laughed. "Your father would be so disappointed. Even after his death weighing on your conscience, you're still just as irresponsible, reckless, and moronic as you ever were!" Drakkon growled in anger, sending a jolt of electricity through the roots to keep them away from him as he searched for Kil'sha.

"Come out here and face me!" Drakkon snarled dangerously, his rage boiling. "I didn't come in here for a damn game of hide and seek, I came here to rip your heart out and make you choke on it!"

"Such violence." Kil'sha laughed, though he still didn't show himself. Drakkon had to do something to draw him out. There _was_ something he would be able to taunt the druid with. After a bit of hesitation at the idea, Drakkon prepared himself.

"You like to think you know everything.." He began. "Do you know who's helping me? Who's got a plan to take you down?"

"Your priest is of no threat to me." Kil'sha scoffed.

"She will be." He said. "But that isn't who I'm referring to." He paused, taking a glance around the forest. "Your corruption only goes so far, here. Faiyte made it out to find help from another druid." Kil'sha chuckled, clearly unaffected. "She found Jaimee." Drakkon announced, and Kil'sha's cackling quickly ceased. "She told us what we have to do to kill you. You want to say my father was so bad.. but at least he didn't do anything horrible enough to turn me against him." He called. "Jaimee wants you gone, from the dream. She wants _me_ to win!"

It would be a blatant lie to say Kil'sha's sudden appearance before him didn't startle Drakkon. Kil'sha roared, pointed teeth bares as he lashed out, sending Drakkon back, through the air, to crash into a tree. At least he had shown himself.

"HOW DARE YOU!" Kil'sha bellowed. He raised his hands and, simultaneously, the roots rose into the air. They followed Kil'sha's swinging arms like twisted puppets, speeding down after Drakkon as he ducked, dodged, and jumped out of the way, heading for Kil'sha. With a loud battlecry, Kil'sha stomped a hoof on the ground. As he did so, the very earth itself rose under Drakkon, knocking him down and causing him to stumble into the very roots he was attempting to avoid. This was new. This wasn't good. Drakkon did his best to fight the roots that closed on him, but they were simply to riled from Kil'sha's outrage. One of the larger ones quickly wrapped itself around his torso, nearly tight enough to break bones, and pulled him through the air.

Drakkon gave an attempt to dig his claw into the root and jolt it into dropping him, but the electric shock seemed to have no effect on them, anymore. Kil'sha's will was too great, now. The druid twisted his arm, causing the root to bring Drakkon towards him. As it did so, it twisted more, restraining Drakkon'e bladed arm and holding it down. He panicked a bit, at this. Without the claw, he was completely defenseless. Kil'sha poised himself to strike, an eager, twisted and malicious grin twisting his features.

It was at this very moment, a wave of light washed across the ground. The roots rose, twisting in pain and thrashing away from the area. Kil'sha, too, snarled in pain, squirming a bit. The root holding Drakkon panicked, as well, flailing in the air from the pain at it's base, and dropping Drakkon. He had braced himself for impact, but not for the pain that landing in the effected area produced. He hissed in a wince, jumping back from the still slightly glowing ground. From the corner of his eye, he saw Faiyte looking to him in shock. Clearly, the fact that he was technically a death knight and, therefore, also weakened by the powers of the light, had slipped her mind. He ignored the pain, giving a gesture for her to continue, regardless. She quickly did so, though she took caution not to cast area spells unless necessary.

Kil'sha's rage had increased tenfold at Faiyte's ability to use the light within his nightmare. He had lost his control, he couldn't stop her. The powers of the light, it seemed, truly hurt him. Faiyte continued casting spells over him as quickly as she could, looking quite triumphant. Of course, it wasn't enough to kill the nightmare druid, but it was enough to distract him. Therefor, it gave Drakkon the opportunity to ambush Kil'sha. If he could get close enough, his claw would serve well enough.

This plan was interrupted, however, when Kil'sha let out a wild roar that was echoed in an animalistic nature. He was practically foaming at the mouth in his fury. He raised his arms and, in tandem, the wild lashing vines and roots rose with them. Then, with Kil'sha's wild swings of his claws, the roots and vines followed after. Kil'sha's attacks were centered on Faiyte, and she was quickly overwhelmed. Having no choice, Drakkon turned his attention to helping Faiyte fight off the hostile nature.

"What the hell are you doing!?" Faiyte called out, just as he slashed away a root that would have otherwise severed her head. "Get Kil'sha!"

"These things will tear you apart just as fast as he could! You know that!" He argued.

"If you kill him they'll stop!" Faiyte huffed. Then, she let out a yelp of surprise as Drakkon quickly snatched her arm and yanked her out of the way of a swinging branch.

"You shouldn't even be here!"

"Without _me_ you'd be dead!"

"Just give me the necklace and wake up!" He ordered.

"No!" She glared, dodging a few roots and casting spells at Kil'sha. The druid howled in pain and rage. The roots became more wild, and it didn't take long for them to grip both Drakkon and Faiyte, holding them in place. They were stuck where they stood. Neither Drakkon's electrified claw, not Faiyte's spells, could sway their hold. Kil'sha was far too angry. A particularly large vine rose from the fog, riddled with long, sharp spikes. As it dove, Drakkon realized in dread that it was aiming straight for Faiyte. Thinking quickly and having no other options, he gripped her arm in his bladed claw, sending a shock through her. She gave a yelp in shock and pain, then disappeared all together. It had woken her up, as he'd intended.

This only angered Kil'sha more, and he snarled at Drakkon's success. The vine whipped around, mid-air, and came crashing down towards Drakkon. He gave a swing of his claw in an attempt to protect himself, but it only knocked the vine off course. Instead of plummeting through his chest, the jagged, spiked vine sliced into his side. Drakkon hissed in pain, ducking as the vine swung again. As he did so, he noticed that the necklace had been left behind when Faiyte had woken up. He quickly snatched it up, wrapping it around his wrist a few times to assure it stayed with him.

In a flash, Drakkon utilized his newly freed abilities to teleport forward, out of the roots and away from the area of attack. Kil'sha seemed confused, twisting around to look for the mage. Drakkon sent a spell towards Kil'sha, then, that caused the nightmare druid's thoughts to scramble. As this took effect, the vines, roots, and tree limbs calmed, no longer controlled. Drakkon sent a wild rush of spells, then, in attempt to bring Kil'sha down. This only succeeded in giving away his position, however. Having lost control over the forest, Kil'sha charged, himself. There was a flurry of claws, hooves, and horns, then, that caused Drakkon a moment of panic. He wasn't accustomed to fighting Kil'sha directly. He focused on slashing his blades at every opportunity he got, casting spells and dodging Kil'sha's attacks. He was doing poorly, however, sustaining more damage than he caused.

Kil'sha regained control of the forest as Drakkon's spell faded from his mind, and Drakkon didn't notice until a vine whipped around and drove itself straight through his torso. It was more shock, than it was pain. Drakkon froze for a moment, looking to the vine, stunned. Kil'sha cackled in victory, calling the vine back and making it whip around. It connected with Drakkon hard, sending his flying back into a tree. This was when the pain hit. He felt weak, drained, and sore all over.

There was a shout, then, but it wasn't Kil'sha. It was a woman's voice. Though, Drakkon thought, for a moment, that it was Faiyte. That she might have gone back to sleep. But, as it spoke, again, and the forest lightened a bit..

"Stop! Please!" It wasn't Faiyte's voice, but it sounded so familiar. He looked up, fighting the blurring in his vision. "That's enough!"

"How did you get in here!?" Kil'sha still sounded enraged, though something in his voice had changed considerably. Forcing himself to focus, Drakkon could vaguely make out the sight before him. Through the fog, he could see the woman was a night elf, dressed in a flowing white dress. Violet hair fell around her shoulders and down her back in soft waves, and her skin was a light shade of lavender.

"The priest." She answered Kil'sha. "She purified it enough to let me enter. Don't you see what you've done, here? You're better than this!"

_"Better_ than this!? _This_ is just. _This_ is _owed_ to me!" Kil'sha hissed. "And you should be on _my_ side! _NOT_ HIS!"

"I don't want to have to choose! Please, just stop this!" She was pleading.

"No! I did not suffer all these years trying to get my revenge just to give it all up once I've come so close!" He snarled.

"Do my feelings mean nothing to you, then!?" She sounded more upset, now.

"You shouldn't _have_ feelings for that wretched, evil, soulless walking corpse from the damn scourge!" He roared. "Your allegiances should lie with your _blood_!" The way Kil'sha said it made everything instantly click in Drakkon's mind. It was Jaimee. At this thought, he forced away his haziness to get a better look at her. Was it real? Was she really there, or was this Kil'sha's last attempt at torturing him?

"My blood!?" She cried. "You are not my father! Not anymore! My father was a kind, caring man! You are a monster! And I will not let you kill Drakkon!"

"The boy is bleeding out as we speak, dear." Kil'sha spat. "There is nothing you can do to stop it!" At this, Jaimee cast a quick, fretful look to Drakkon.

"I can heal him." She said defiantly, looking back to her father. He snarled.

"And how do you intend to do that when I dispose of you!?" He shot. Then, he gave a swift backhand that Jaimee wasn't expecting. It caused her to fall backwards with a cry of pain. To hell if it was fake. Drakkon gripped the amulet tightly, forcing himself to his feet. Rather dizzily, he teleported forward, tp the area between Jaimee and Kil'sha just as the latter gave another swing. Kil'sha let out a snarl of shock and pain as Drakkon appeared before him, a swing of his claw easily tearing into Kil'sha's arm as it came down. Kil'sha recoiled, black blood dripping from the fresh would. He focused on it for only a moment before his golden eyes locked on Drakkon.

"Stay away from her!" Drakkon's growl dripped heavily with venom, a daring tone behind the snarl. Jaimee moved, beginning to cast a healing spell on Drakkon. Kil'sha, however, interrupted it. The roots sprang to life, wrapping tightly around Jaimee and pinning her back against a tree. Their grip tightened when she struggled, and she gave a sharp wince.

At this hostile move, Drakkon moved forward to take on the nightmare druid directly. Kil'sha, too, moved to clash with the mage, attempting futilely to command his roots against him. Drakkon's claw dealt with them well enough, however, sparking with electric current in his anger. Drakkon cast spells at Kil'sha to slow and weaken him, and swung dangerously with his electrified claw, dealing sufficient damage whenever the blades connected with the druid's flesh. Though Kil'sha was able to get in a few damaging blows, himself, it was like Drakkon didn't even feel them. Nothing seemed to be slowing him down.

"ENOUGH!" Kil'sha called, and the roots around Jaimee tightened significantly, making her cry out in agony. "Stop and surrender of I will tear her apart!" Kil'sha ordered. Drakkon hesitated at this, giving a short glance over his shoulder to the pained and struggling Jaimee. The roots were still tightening around her. Slowly, but steadily. They would surely cut straight through her, if Kil'sha chose to make them. Drakkon's head was spinning, and his vision still faltered in his blood loss. With one last glare of hatred to Kil'sha, he collapsed to his knees before him, hanging his head. Kil'sha chuckled, his stance relaxing as he moved forward, relishing in the thought of dealing the final blow.

"No!" Jaimee called out past her pain. "Please!"

"Silence!" Kil'sha shot, sending another vine to wrap around her mouth. He came to a stop before Drakkon, clicking his claws before raising his hand in preparation.

"And last words, scourge filth?" He snickered.

"You never were much for thinking things through, were you?" Drakkon asked, causing Kil'sha to raise a brow. In a flash, Drakkon first cast a spell to block Kil'sha's control of the roots, again. Then, in the next instant, Drakkon leapt up from the ground, driving his bladed, electrified claw straight into Kil'sha's open chest, sending a surge of sparks straight into the druid's heart. Kil'sha jolted in pain and, as a last act, drove his claws into Drakkon's back. Drakkon twisted, grabbing one of the druid's elk-like horns and using his body weight to topple Kil'sha to the ground. After a few moments, Kil'sha went limp, breathing his last ragged, pained breath.

Drakkon moved, then, tearing his claw from Kil'sha's chest and backing away from his body. The fog was slowly fading, the sky was changing from it's shade of crimson to a more natural blue, and the roots were calmed and still. Drakkon expected to turn around to see Jaimee had disappeared. He expected her to have just been an illusion. She wasn't, however. With Kil'sha's will gone, she was able to control the forest, herself. The roots around her twisted away easily. Drakkon leaned back against a nearby tree, sliding down it to sit on the ground as he watched her in disbelief. Once the roots were free from her, she bolted forward, crashing to her knees beside him, looking horrified.

"Oh, Elune! You're a wreck!" She breathed, tears rimming her eyes as she looked over his wounds.

"Are you real?" He had to ask it. Assumptions just weren't good enough, in this instance. She looked to him, eyes locking with his. There was a deep worry in them as she gave a nod.

"Of course I am." She said. "As real as he was.." She added, nodding over her shoulder before starting a healing spell. "Just relax an-" She was cut short when Drakkon grabbed her, pulling her quickly into his lap and holding her tightly against his chest. Jaimee faltered, stunned, but wrapped her arms around him after a moment, clinging to him. "Drakkon.. You really need to let me heal you." She said quietly, after a small while.

"No." His reply was short and definite. Jaimee's concern worsened, at this.

"Your wounds are severe. They will kill you." She tried.

"I know." At this, she gave an attempt to pull away. Drakkon's hold on her tightened, however, preventing it. Instead, she moved her head, looking up to him in shock.

"Drakkon, I-" She began, but he interrupted, keeping her locked in their gaze as he continued to hold her in place.

"Do you have any idea what I've been through, since you died?" He began, though the statement and his voice lacked anger. Rather, he seemed a bit pleading. "What my life has been like? If you could even _call_ it a life.." He muttered. "Watching everything collapse around me, everything crumble and turn to ash and knowing most, if not all, of it was my _own_ fault?" He paused. "They all expect me to be strong, Jaimee. They expect me to go on and take control and act like nothing bothers me when it tears me apart _constantly_. I can't _take_ it, anymore."

"So you really expect me to just let you die?" She asked, voice trembling a bit, filled with panic as her dormant tears rolled over her cheeks.

"Didn't you ask me to do the same thing for you?" He retaliated, and she faltered. "I can't handle all the damn pressure, anymore. I've spent my entire life just ruining everything I've come in contact with and, no matter how hard I try to do the right thing, it all goes wrong. _All_ my life has been like that. I try to _help_, and I end up making things _worse_." He said, the pleading in his voice was obvious, now. "The one and only thing I've ever even come close to succeeding in was raising Valeah, and even that I just barely handled. And she's grown and moved on, now.. And, thank Elune that she turned out like you, instead of me, because I'm a damn _mess_." He said the word in a bitter tone. "I don't have one single reason to live, Jaimee. Honestly, it's just better for _everyone_ if I _don't_."

"Drak-" She tried.

"You can't argue with it." He stopped her. "I tried to help Silver, and ended up sending her into a situation that she was extremely lucky to survive at all. Wolfe.. I completely betrayed him to the point that, if he found out, he would rebel against the entire kingdom, which I single-handedly ruined.. And as a direct result of _that_, my father was killed, which completely destroyed my mother.. Not to mention _you_.. If you hadn't met me, you would probably still be alive, happy and well in Stormwind. Everything I come into contact with.. I can't do anything right, and I'm sick and tired and drained.. I can't do it anymore." He said.

"You always dwell on the bad.." Jaimee said. "Silver made it out alive because she was strong.. And she found her place and her own happiness as a result of what you did for her. You didn't ruin her life, you helped her live it. What you did to Wolfe.. If you _hadn't_, then you wouldn't have had the initiative to follow her and find out who she really was. If it hadn't happened that way, he would have gotten more attached to her and probably would have run off with her and rebelled against you, anyway." She said. "You run your kingdom the best you can, given the circumstances, and you _are_ strong enough to do it. If you give up now, it will all have been for _nothing_ and you wouldn't be able to prove yourself. As for me.. What makes you think I wasn't happy while I was living in the Citadel? Yes, I had my restaurant, and my way of life.. But that doesn't mean I was better off. I was happier, when I was with you, than I'd ever been in my life. And, if I hadn't met you, Valeah wouldn't exist." She finished. "You aren't the plague you paint yourself to be, Drakkon. And you just saved the emerald dream from a _real_ threat. You saved more than you think, including other druids, living or spirits, myself included."

"So, then I can end on a good note." He muttered, and she frowned.

"Drakkon, please." She breathed.

"If I live, am I ever going to come back here?" He asked. "Am I ever going to see you again?" At this, she struggled, breaking their gaze for a moment. This was enough of an answer. "I don't want to live without you. I'd rather die, here, with you."

"You have to let me go. You know that." She tried. "All it's doing is dragging you down and holding you back. I don't want that. You have to stop blaming yourself, it was _my_ choice." She insisted. "You need to move on and stop living as thought I'm still there, judging you. Of _course_ I watch over you and Valeah.. But even in death I stand by your decisions." She paused. "And these past two years you've been making them, based on what _you_ want. _That_ is how you should live."

"Because it worked out so well.." He muttered, and she smiled slightly.

"For the most part." She nodded. "It's better than living like you're stuck under someone's thumb.." She tried, again, to sit up. He was reluctant, but he let her. And, as she started casting another healing spell, he allowed her to mend the wounds. Though, he didn't seemed pleased with the idea of living. The pair was silent, as she continued. The healing spells were certainly heightened by the dream and, not only did the wounds close quickly, but no scars remained in their wake. The thought caused Jaimee's eyes to life to Drakkon's face. To the claw scars over his left eye. She moved a hand under his chin, lifting his face and leaning forward to press a kiss on his cheek, over the scars. She rested her forehead on his, placing a hand on either side of his face and locking her eyes to his.

"Feel better?" She asked.

"I suppose." He said. With this, it was clear he still wished she had just let him die. "That worgen, Tacoon.. He said druid spirits can pull others into the emerald dream.." He started, after a moment.

"Drak.." Jaimee breathed, slightly pained.

"I'm not saying for me.." He clarified. "Valeah should meet you, if only once." At this, Jaimee smiled slightly, giving small nod in agreement. He still seemed somber, however.

"Please don't hate me for keeping you alive." She tried. At this, he moved his unbladed hand to the back of her neck, pulling her forward to press his lips to hers. She immediately returned the kiss, moving her hands to link her arms around him.

"I love you." He said, once they'd pulled apart, moving his hand to wipe the tears from her cheek.

"I love you, too." She smiled, moving her hand to rest on his. "You.." She faltered, after a moment. "You know you have to wake up." He was reluctant, but he gave a nod. "Goodbye, Drakkon." She said, giving a sad smile. Then, she moved a hand to his chest, and the emerald dream faded away into nothingness.


	27. Aftermath

He lay still on the bed for quite a while, eyes still closed, refusing to acknowledge that he was back in the Citadel. For the first time, he _hated_ the fact that he was awake. He still regretted the fact that he was alive, at all. As alive as a death knight can be, anyway. He swelled upon Jaimee for quite some time, lying there. All those times being pulled into Kil'sha's nightmare.. All the times he'd been in the forest.. It upset him to know Jaimee was always there. Just beyond the corruption and out of reach. It only made him hate Kil'sha more. Though, how angry could he really be? Without Kil'sha's obsession with killing him, he would never have gone to the emerald dream at all. He wouldn't have been able to see Jaimee again, that one last time. So, in a way, he had to be a little bit grateful to the nightmare druid.. But, now that he was dead, the emerald dream would be unreachable again. Drakkon had always been content with being a mage. But, in this moment, he wished he was a druid. If he were, he would be able to go back into the emerald dream whenever he pleased.

His thoughts were interrupted by a rather loud, bustling commotion from a ways away, within the Citadel. He sighed. What now? He opened his eyes and sat up with heavy reluctance. He was in no mood to deal with another attack, at the moment. The sound was coming closer, down the hall towards his study. Then, someone gave an attempt to open the locked door and then rapidly pounded on it. It seemed slightly desperate.

"Dad!?" Valeah's voice shrieked from the other side of the door. Valeah was usually able to keep calm rather well. Something was wrong. Drakkon moved from the bed quickly, heaving open the door and looking to her with concern. She seemed fine, other than being completely panicked.

"What's wrong?" He asked, raising a brow and looking down the lengths of the hallway. Nothing seemed to be out of order.

"Are you alright!?"

"I'm fine, wh-" He began.

"You're not fine, you're covered in blood!" She argued, gesturing to him. At this, he gave a glance to his clothes. They were torn and bloodied from the encounter with Kil'sha. "What happened!?" She demanded, grabbing onto his shirt and searching over the tears for signs of wounds beneath them. Drakkon snatched her wrist, gaining back her rather terrified gaze.

"Stop." He said. "Everything is fine." He paused. "Why did you come here?" He asked. From the way she'd been acting, it was almost like she knew.

"Well Faiyte came practically busting down my door in the dead of night, telling me I desperately needed to come see if you were alright!" She exclaimed. "She was acting like you were going to die! Is this blood yours?!"

"It's a long story." He said. "Faiyte went to get you?" He asked, and Valeah gave a quick nod. "Is she alright?"

"She's fine! Why!?"

"Calm down, Val." Drakkon said. "Everything is alright, just relax."

"What happened?" She asked, attempting to force the shaking from her voice and control her tone. "How did she know about.. About all this?" She gestured to him, again.

"I'll explain, later." He said pointedly. He meant it, too. With Kil'sha gone, there was no reason he had to keep lying to her. There was no longer the threat of Kil'sha getting a hold of her. "Where is Faiyte, did she come with you?" He asked, though he was sure he already knew the answer.

"No, she said.." Valeah faltered. "I left her back at my place. Tacoon was trying to calm her down, when I left." She said. "She did tell me to tell you she hates the fact that she doesn't want you dead, anymore, though. I'm also supposed to hit you, if you're alright." She added, smacking the back of her hand against his arm. "Now.. Will you please tell me what the hell happened? When I left, she and Tacoon were talking about the emerald dream?" She seemed greatly confused, and still concerned with the amount of blood covering him.

"Go wait in the front room." He said. "I'll come explain it to you after I change." She gave a nod.

"You'd better." She said pointedly, before turning to go back down the hallway.


End file.
